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/       •..'...;  OUR  >S  LOST. 


California 

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EDITED  BY 


WILLIAM  J,  ROL-  -. 


t^v<^      ,  xj 

.: 


SHAKESPEARE'S   COMEDY 
OF 

LOVE'S    LABOUR   'S    LOST 


PIC   DU    MIDI    D1  UbSAU,  NAVARRE. 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


COMEDY  OF 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST 

EDITED,  WITH  NOTES, 

BY 

WILLIAM    J.  ROLFE,  Lm\D., 

FORMERLY    HEAD    MASTER   OF   THE   HIGH    SCHOOL,  CAMBRIDGE    MASS 


WITH  ENGRA  V1NGS. 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN      BOOK     COMPANY 


ENGLISH   CLASSICS. 

EDITED  BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  LITT.  D. 
Illustrated.    12mo,  Cloth,  56  cents  per  volume. 


SHAKESPEARE'S 

The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Othello. 

Julius  Caesar. 

A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 

Macbeth. 

Hamlet. 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

As  You  Like  It. 

The  Tempest. 

Twelfth  Night. 

The  Winter's  Tale. 

King  |<>hn. 

Richard  II. 

Henry  IV.     Part  I. 

Henry  IV.     Part  II. 

Henry  V. 

Henry  VI.     Part  I. 

Henry  VI.     Part  II. 

Henry  VI.     Part  III 


WORKS. 
Richard  III. 
Henry  VIII. 
King  Lear. 

The  Taming  of  ihe  Shrew. 
All  's  Well  that  Ends  Well. 
Coriolanus. 

The  Comedy  of  Errors. 
Cymbeline. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 
Measure  for  Measure. 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 
Love's  I  abour  's  Lost. 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 
Timon  of  Athens. 
Troilus  and  Cressida. 
Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre. 
The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 
Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  etc. 
Sonnets. 
Titus  Andronicus. 


GOLDSMITH'S  SELECT  POEMS.  BROWNING'S  SELECT  POEMS. 

GRAY'S  SELECT  POEMS.  BROWNING'S  SELECT  DRAMAS. 

MINOR  POEMS  OF  JOHN  MILTON.     MACAULAY'S  LAYS  OF  ANCIENT  ROME. 
WORDSWORTH'S  SELECT  POEMS. 

LAMBS'  TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE'S  COMEDIES. 
LAMBS'  TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE'S  TRAGEDIES. 

EDITED  BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  LITT.  D. 
Illustrated.    Cloth,  12mo,  5O  cents  per  volume. 


Copyright,  1882  and  1898,  by  HAKPER  &  BROTHERS. 


Love's  Labour  's  Lost. 
W.  P.  2 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION  TO  LOVE'S  LABOUR  's  LOST 9 

I.  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY 9 

II.  THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PLOT 12* 

III.  CRITICAL  COMMENTS  ON  THE  PLAY 13 

LOVE'S  LABOUR'S  LOST 33 

ACT  1 35 

"  II 50 

"HI 59 

"IV 66 

"  V 89 

NOTES 125 


2230742 


SPANISH    GENTLEMAN    AND    FRENCH    LADY   OF    l6TH    CENTURY. 


INTRODUCTION 

TO 

LOVE'S    LABOUR'S    LOST. 


I.    THE    HISTORY    OF    THE    PLAY. 

THE  earliest  edition  of  Love's  Labour 's  Lost  (or  Lore's  La- 
bours Los/,  as  Mr.  Furnivall  believes  we  should  write  it)  that 
has  come  clown  to  us  is  a  quarto  published  in  1598,  with  the 
following  title-page  (as  given  in  the  Camb.  ed.) : 

A  |  Pleasant  |  Conceited  Comedie  |  called,  |  Loues  labors 
lost.  |  As  it  was  presented  before  her  Highnes  |  this  last 
Christmas.  |  Newly  corrected  and  augmented  |  By  W.  Shake- 


I0  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

spere.  \  Imprinted  at  London  by  W.  W.  \  for  Cutbert  Burby. 
1598. 

No  entry  of  the  play  upon  the  Stationers'  Registers  ap- 
pears before  January  22, 1606-7,  when  ^  was  transferred  by 
Burby  to  N.  Ling,  who  may  have  brought  out  a  new  edition, 
though  no  copy  of  it  or  reference  to  it  is  now  known.  A 
second  quarto,  published  in  1631,  "by  W.  S.  for  lohn  Smeth- 
wicke"  (to  whom  Ling  assigned  the  copyright  in  1607)  is 
apparently  reprinted  from  the  folio  of  1623. 

The  earliest  mention  of  the  play  that  has  been  discovered 
is  in  the  following  lines  from  a  poem  entitled  Alba,  or  the 
Months  Mind  of  a  Melancholy  Lover,  by  "  R.  T.  Gentleman  " 
(Robert  Tofte),  published  by  Burby  in  1598: 

"  Love's  Labour  Lost  I  once  did  see,  a  Play 

Y-cleped  so,  so  called  to  my  paine. 

Which  I  to  heare  to  my  small  loy  did  stay, 

Giving  attendance  on  my  frovvard  Dame  : 
My  misgiving  minde  presaging  to  me  ill, 
Yet  was  I  drawne  to  see  it  'gainst  my  will, 

******* 

Each  Actor  plaid  in  cunning  wise  his  part, 

But  chiefly  Those  entrapt  in  Cupids  snare  ; 

Yet  All  was  fained,  't  was  not  from  the  hart, 

They  seemde  to  grieve,  but  yet  they  felt  no  care  : 
'T  was  I  that  Griefe  (indeed)  did  beare  in  brest, 
The  others  did  but  make  a  show  in  lest." 

It  is  included  in  Meres's  list,  printed  in  the  same  year  (see 
M.  N.  D.  p.  9,  or  C.  of  E.  p.  102).* 

The  quarto  of  1598  professes  to  be  "newly  corrected  and 
augmented,"  and  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  is  the  re- 
vised form  of  a  play  written  some  years  before,  and  not  im- 
probably Shakespeare's  first  play.  Drake,  Delius,  and  Fleay 
date  it  in  1591,  Stoke  in  1591-2,  Chalmers  in  1592,  and 

*  On  the  play  of  " Loue  labours  -wonne"  which  Meres  associates  with 
it,  see  A.  W.  p.  9  fol. 


INTRODUCTION.  !  j 

Malone  in  1594.  Furnivall  is  inclined  to  make  the  date 
1588-9,*  and  White  "probably  not  later  than  1588." 

Among  the  marks  of  an  early  style  (cf.  Stokes,  Chron. 
Order  of  Shakespeare's  Plays,  p.  28)  may  be  mentioned  :  the 
introduction  of  well -known  old  characters  (besides  "the 
Nine  Worthies,"  we  have  what  Biron,  in  v.  2.  540,  calls  "  the 
pedant,  the  braggart,  the  hedge  priest,  the  fool,  and  the 
boy"t);  the  observance  of  the  "unities;"  the  abundance  of 
rhyme,  the  doggerel,  the  sonnets \  (occasionally  as  speech- 
es);  the  alliteration,  or  "affecting  the  letter,"  as  Holofer- 
nes  calls  it;  the  quibbles,  antitheses,  repartees,  "the  sparkles 
of  wit,  like  a  blaze  of  fireworks  "  (Schlegel);  the  proverbial 
expressions;  the  peculiar  and  pedantic  grammatical  con- 
structions; the  words  used  in  their  native  forms;  the  display 
of  learning;  the  pairs  of  characters;  the  disguising  and 
changing  of  persons;  the  chorus-like,  alternate  answers;  the 
strained  dialogue,  etc.  It  is  "a  play  of  conversation  and  sit- 
uation" (Furnivall),  in  which  "depth  of  characterization  is 
subordinate  to  elegance  and  sprightliness  of  dialogue  "  (Staun- 
ton).  There  is  a  want  of  reality  about  it  all ;  even  the  oc- 
casion— a  princess  acting  as  an  ambassadress — is  unnatural. 

The  play  is  poorly  printed  in  both  the  quarto  and  the 
folio,  and  the  repetition  of  sundry  typographical  errors 
proves  that  the  latter  was  set  up  from  a  copy  of  the  former. 
There  are,  however,  variations  in  the  two  texts  which  indi- 

*  He  says:  "I  have  no  hesitation  in  picking  out  this  as  Shakspere's 
earliest  play.     The  reason  that  has  induced  some  critics  to  put  it  later 
is,  I  believe,  that  it  is  much  more  carefully  worked-at  and  polished  than 
some  of  the  other  early  plays."     This  he  ascribes  to  the  revision  of  the 
play  ;  and  he  refers  to  some  striking  evidences  of  the  correction,  which 
will  be  found  in  our  Notes  below. 

t  In  the  prefixes  and  stage-directions  of  the  folio,  Armado  is  often 
"the  braggart,"  Holofernes  "the  pedant,"  Nathaniel  "the  curate,"  Cos- 
tard "  the  clown,"  and  Moth  "  the  boy  "  or  "  page." 

*  Some  of  these  sonnets  were  printed  by  Jaggard  in  The  Passionate 
Pilgrim,  1599.     For  others,  cf.  Sonn.  127,  137. 


12  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

cate  that  the  editors  of  the  folio  were  occasionally  indebted 
to  some  other  authority  than  the  quarto. 

II.    THE   SOURCES   OF   THE    PLOT. 

The  plot,  so  far  as  we  know,  was  original  with  Shakespeare. 
Dowden  remarks  :  "  The  play  is  precisely  such  a  one  as  a 
clever  young  man  might  imagine,  who  had  come  lately  from 
the  country — with  its  'daisies  pied  and  violets  blue,'  its 
'  merry  larks,'  its  maidens  who  '  bleach  their  summer  smocks,' 
its  pompous  parish  schoolmaster,  and  its  dull  constable  (a 
great  public  official  in  his  own  eyes) — to  the  town,  where  he 
was  surrounded  by  more  brilliant  unrealities,  and  affectations 
of  dress,  of  manner,  of  language,  and  of  ideas.  Love's  La- 
bour 's  Lost  is  a  dramatic  plea  on  behalf  of  nature  and  of 
common-sense  against  all  that  is  unreal  and  affected."  But,  as 
White  says,  "  that  the  play  is  founded  upon  some  older  work, 
its  undramatic  character,  its  needless  fulness  of  detail,  its  air 
of  artificial  romance,  and  the  attribution  of  particular  per- 
sonal traits — such  as  black  eyes  and  a  dark  complexion  to 
one,  great  size  to  another,  and  a  face  pitted  with  the  small- 
pox to  another  of  the  ladies,  and  the  merely  incidental  hints 
that  one  of  the  king's  friends  is  an  officer  in  the  army  and 
extremely  youthful — seem  unmistakable  evidence;  and  that 
the  story  is  of  French  origin  is  as  clearly  shown  by  the  na- 
tionality of  the  titles,  the  Gallicism  of  calling  a  love-letter  a 
capon,  the  appearance  of  the  strong  French  negative  point 
twice,  and  the  use  of  seigneur  instead  of  signior."  Rev.  Jo- 
seph Hunter,  in  his  Neiv  Illustrations  (vol.  i.p.  256),  suggests 
that  the  poet  may  have  got  a  hint  from  Monstrelet's  Chron- 
icles, according  to  which  Charles,  King  of  Navarre,  surren- 
dered to  the  King  of  France  the  castle  of  Cherbourg,  the 
county  of  Evreux,  and  other  lordships  for  the  Duchy  of 
Nemours  and  a  promise  of  200,000  gold  crowns.  Sundry 
passages  which  appear  to  have  been  borrowed  or  imitated 
from  other  writers  will  be  pointed  out  in  the  Notes. 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

III.    CRITICAL   COMMENTS    ON   THE    PLAY. 
[From  Schlegefs  '•''Dramatic  Literature."*] 

Love's  Labour 's  Lost  is  numbered  among  the  pieces  of  his 
youth.  It  is  a  humorsome  display  of  frolic;  a  whole  cornu- 
copia of  the  most  vivacious  jokes  is  emptied  into  it.  Youth 
is  certainly  perceivable  in  the  lavish  superfluity  of  labour  in 
the  execution :  the  unbroken  succession  of  plays  on  words, 
and  sallies  of  every  description,  hardly  leave  the  spectator 
time  to  breathe ;  the  sparkles  of  wit  fly  about  in  such  pro- 
fusion that  they  resemble  a  blaze  of  fireworks  ;  while  the 
dialogue,  for  the  most  part,  is  in  the  same  hurried  style  in 
which  the  passing  masks  at  a  carnival  attempt  to  banter 
each  other.  The  young  king  of  Navarre,  with  three  of  his 
courtiers,  has  made  a  vow  to  pass  three  years  in  rigid  retire- 
ment, and  devote  them  to  the  study  of  wisdom ;  for  that  pur- 
pose he  has  banished  all  female  society  from  his  court,  and 
imposed  a  penalty  on  the  intercourse  with  women.  But 
scarcely  has  he,  in  a  pompous  harangue,  worthy  of  the  most 
heroic  achievements,  announced  this  determination,  when 
the  daughter  of  the  King  of  France  appears  at  his  court,  in 
the  name  of  her  old  and  bedridden  father,  to  demand  the 
restitution  of  a  province  which  he  held  in  pledge.  Com- 
pelled to  give  her  audience,  he  falls  immediately  in  love  with 
her.  Matters  fare  no  better  with  his  companions,  who  on 
their  parts  renew  an  old  acquaintance  with  the  princess's 
attendants.  Each,  in  heart,  is  already  false  to  his  vow,  with- 
out knowing  that  the  wish  is  shared  by  his  associates  ;  they 
overhear  one  another,  as  they  in  turn  confide  their  sorrows 
in  a  love-ditty  to  the  solitary  forest :  every  one  jeers  and 
confounds  the  one  who  follows  him.  Biron,  who  from  the 
beginning  was  the  most  satirical  among  them,  at  last  steps 
forth,  and  rallies  the  king  and  the  two  others,  till  the  discov- 

*  Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art  and  Literature,  by  A.  W.  Schlegel  ;  Black's 
translation,  revised  by  Morrison  (London,  1846),  p.  383  fol. 


1'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

— r 

ery  of  a  love-letter  forces  him  also  to  hang  down  his  head. 
He  extricates  himself  and  his  companions  from  their  dilem- 
ma by  ridiculing  the  folly  of  the  broken  vow,  and,  after  a  no- 
ble eulogy  on  women,  invites  them  to  swear  new  allegiance 
to  the  colours  of  love.  This  scene  is  inimitable,  and  the 
crowning  beauty  of  the  whole.  The  manner  in  which  they 
afterwards  prosecute  their  love-suits  in  masks  and  disguise, 
and  in  which  they  are  tricked  and  laughed  at  by  the  ladies, 
who  are  also  masked  and  disguised,  is,  perhaps,  spun  out  too 
long.  It  may  be  thought,  too,  that  the  poet,  when  he  sud- 
denly announces  the  death  of  the  King  of  France,  and  makes 
the  princess  postpone  her  answer  to  the  prince's  serious  ad- 
vances till  the  expiration  of  the  period  of  her  mourning, 
and  impose,  besides,  a  heavy  penance  on  him  for  his  levity, 
drops  the  proper  comic  tone.  But  the  tone  of  raillery,  which 
prevails  throughout  the  piece,  made  it  hardly  possible  to 
bring  about  a  more  satisfactory  conclusion  :  after  such  ex- 
travagance, the  characters  could  not  return  to  sobriety,  ex- 
cept under  the  presence  of  some  foreign  influence.  The 
grotesque  figures  of  Don  Armado,  a  pompous  fantastic 
Spaniard,  a  couple  of  pedants,  and  a  clown,  who  between 
whiles  contribute  to  the  entertainment,  are  the  creation  of  a 
whimsical  imagination,  and  well  adapted  as  foils  for  the  wit 
of  so  vivacious  a  society. 

[From  Coleridge's  "Notes  and  Lectures  upon  Shakspeare."  *] 
The  characters  in  this  play  are  either  impersonated  out 
of  Shakspeare's  own  multiformity  by  imaginative  self-posi- 
tion, or  out  of  such  as  a  country  town  and  schoolboy's  ob- 
servation might  supply  —  the  curate,  the  schoolmaster,  the 
Armado  (who  even  in  my  time  was  not  extinct  in  the  cheap- 
er inns  of  North  Wales),  and  so  on.     The  satire  is  chiefly 
on  follies  of  words.     Biron  and  Rosaline  are  evidently  the 
pre-existent  state  of  Benedict  and  Beatrice,  and  so,  perhaps, 
*  Coleridge's  Works  (Harper's  edition),  vol.  iv.  p.  79  fol. 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

is  Boyet  of  Lafeu,  and  Costard  of  the  Tapster  in  Measure 
for  Measure;  and  the  frequency  of  the  rhymes,  the  sweet- 
ness as  well  as  the  smoothness  of  the  metre,  and  the  number 
of  acute  and  fancifully  illustrated  aphorisms,  are  all  as  they 
ought  to  be  in  a  poet's  youth.  True  genius  begins  by  gen- 
eralizing and  condensing;  it  ends  in  realizing  and  expand- 
ing. It  first  collects  the  seeds. 

Yet  if  this  juvenile  drama  had  been  the  only  one  extant 
of  our  Shakspeare,  and  we  possessed  the  tradition  only  of 
his  riper  works,  or  accounts  of  them  in  writers  who  had  not 
even  mentioned  this  play,  how  many  of  Shakspeare's  char- 
acteristic features  might  we  not  still  have  discovered  in 
Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  though  as  in  a  portrait  taken  of  him 
in  his  boyhood ! 

I  can  never  sufficiently  admire  the  wonderful  activity  of 
thought  throughout  the  whole  of  the  first  scene  of  the  play, 
rendered  natural,  as  it  is,  by  the  choice  of  the  characters, 
and  the  whimsical  determination  on  which  the  drama  is 
founded.  A  whimsical  determination  certainly  ;  yet  not  al- 
together so  very  improbable  to  those  who  are  conversant  in 
the  history  of  the  Middle  Ages,  with  their  Courts  of  Love, 
and  all  that  lighter  drapery  of  chivalry,  which  engaged  even 
mighty  kings  with  a  sort  of  serio-comic  interest,  and  may 
well  be  supposed  to  have  occupied  more  completely  the 
smaller  princes,  at  a  time  when  the  noble's  or  prince's  court 
contained  the  only  theatre  of  the  domain  or  principality. 
This  sort  of  story,  too,  was  admirably  suited  to  Shakspeare's 
times,  when  the  English  court  was  still  the  foster-mother  of 
the  state  and  the  muses  ;  and  when,  in  consequence,  the 
courtiers,  and  men  of  rank  and  fashion,  affected  a  display  of 
wit,  point,  and  sententious  observation  that  would  be  deemed 
intolerable  at  present,  but  in  which  a  hundred  years  of 
controversy,  involving  every  great  political,  and  every  dear 
domestic,  interest,  had  trained  all  but  the  lowest  classes  to 
participate.  Add  to  this  the  very  style  of  the  sermons  of 


j6  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

the  time,  and  the  eagerness  of  the  Protestants  to  distinguish 
themselves  by  long  and  frequent  preaching,  it  will  be  found 
that,  from  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  to  the  abdication  of 
James  II.,  no  country  ever  received  such  a  national  educa- 
tion as  England. 

Hence  the  comic  matter  chosen  in  the  first  instance  is  a 
ridiculous  imitation  or  apery  of  this  constant  striving  after 
logical  precision,  and  subtle  opposition  of  thoughts,  together 
with  a  making  the  most  of  every  conception  or  image,  by 
expressing  it  under  the  least  expected  property  belonging  to 
it,  and  this,  again,  rendered  specially  absurd  by  being  ap- 
plied to  the  most  current  subjects  and  occurrences.  The 
phrases  and  modes  of  combination  in  argument  were  caught 
by  the  most  ignorant  from  the  custom  of  the  age,  and  their 
ridiculous  misapplication  of  them  is  most  amusingly  exhibit- 
ed in  Costard  ;  whilst  examples  suited  only  to  the  gravest 
propositions  and  impersonations,  or  apostrophes  to  abstract 
thoughts  impersonated,  which-  are  in  fact  the  natural  lan- 
guage only  of  the  most  vehement  agitations  of  the  mind,  are 
adopted  by  the  coxcombry  of  Armado  as  mere  artifices  of 
ornament. 

The  same  kind  of  intellectual  action  is  exhibited  in  a 
more  serious  and  elevated  strain  in  many  other  parts  of  this 
play.  Biron's  speech  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  act  is  an  ex- 
cellent specimen  of  it.  It  is  logic  clothed  in  rhetoric;  but 
observe  how  Shakspeare,  in  his  twofold  being  of  poet  and 
philosopher,  avails  himself  of  it  to  convey  profound  truths 
in  the  most  lively  images — the  whole  remaining  faithful  to 
the  character  supposed  to  utter  the  lines,  and  the  expressions 
themselves  constituting  a  further  development  of  that  char 
acter. 

[Here  Coleridge  quotes  the  42  lines  from  "Other  slow 
arts  entirely  keep  the  brain"  to  the  end  of  the  speech.] 

This  is  quite  a  study  :  sometimes  you  see  this  youthful  god 
of  poetry  connecting  disparate  thoughts  purely  by  means  of 


IN  TROD  UC  TION.  l  -j 

resemblances  in  the  words  expressing  them  —  a  thing  in 
character  in  lighter  comedy,  especially  of  that  kind  in  which 
Shakspeare  delights,  namely,  the  purposed  display  of  wit, 
though  sometimes,  too,  disfiguring  his  graver  scenes  ;  but 
more  often  you  may  see  him  doubling  the  natural  connection 
or  order  of  logical  consequence  in  the  thoughts  by  the  in- 
troduction of  an  artificial  and  sought-for  resemblance  in  the 
words,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  third  line  of  the  play — 

"And  then  grace  us  in  the  disgrace  of  death ;" 

this  being  a  figure  often  having  its  force  and  propriety,  as 
justified  by  the  law  of  passion,  which,  inducing  in  the  mind 
an  unusual  activity,  seeks  for  means  to  waste  its  superfluity 
— when  in  the  highest  degree — in  lyric  repetitions  and  sub- 
lime tautology  (at  her  feet  he  bowed,  he  fell,  he  lay  down;  at 
her  feet  he  bowed,  he  fell;  where  he  bowed,  there  he  fell  down 
dead};  and,  in  lower  degrees,  in  making  the  words  them- 
selves the  subjects  and  materials  of  that  surplus  action,  and 
for  the  same  cause  that  agitates  our  limbs,  and  forces  our 
very  gestures  into  a  tempest  in  states  of  high  excitement. 

The  mere  style  of  narration  in  Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  like 
that  of  ^Egeon  in  the  first  scene  of  the  Comedy  of  Errors, 
and  of  the  Captain  in  the  second  scene  of  Macbeth,  seems 
imitated  with  its  defects  and  its  beauties  from  Sir  Philip 
Sidney ;  whose  Arcadia,  though  not  then  published,  was  al- 
ready well  known  in  manuscript  copies,  and  could  hardly 
have  escaped  the  notice  and  admiration  of  Shakspeare  as 
the  friend  and  client  of  the  Earl  of  Southampton.  The  chief 
defect  consists  in  the  parentheses  and  parenthetic  thoughts 
and  descriptions,  suited  neither  to  the  passion  of  the  speak- 
er nor  the  purpose  of  the  person  to  whom  the  information 
is  to  be  given,  but  manifestly  betraying  the  author  himself 
— not  by  way  of  continuous  under-song,  but — palpably,  and 
so  as  to  show  themselves  addressed  to  the  general  reader. 
However,  it  is  not  unimportant  to  notice  how  strong  a  pre- 

B 


jg  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

sumption  the  diction  and  allusions  of  this  play  afford,  that, 
though  Shakspeare's  acquirements  in  the  dead  languages 
might  not  be  such  as  we  suppose  in  a  learned  education, 
his  habits  had,  nevertheless,  been  scholastic,  and  those  of 
a  student.  For  a  young  author's  first  work  almost  always 
bespeaks  his  recent  pursuits;  and  his  first  observations  of 
life  are  either  drawn  from  the  immediate  employments  of 
his  youth,  and  from  the  characters  and  images  most  deeply 
impressed  on  his  mind  in  the  situations  in  which  those  em- 
ployments had  placed  him,  or  else  they  are  fixed  on  such 
objects  and  occurrences  in  the  world  as  are  easily  connected 
with,  and  seem  to  bear  upon,  his  studies  and  the  hitherto  ex 
elusive  subjects  of  his  meditation.  Just  as  Ben  Jonson,  who 
applied  himself  to  the  drama,  after  having  served  in  Flanders, 
fills  his  earliest  plays  with  true  or  pretended  soldiers — the 
wrongs  and  neglects  of  the  former,  and  the  absurd  boasts 
and  knavery  of  their  counterfeits.  So  Lessing's  first  come- 
dies are  placed  in  the  universities,  and  consist  of  events  and 
characters  conceivable  in  an  academic  life. 

I  will  only  further  remark  the  sweet  and  tempered  gravity 
with  which  Shakspeare  in  the  end  draws  the  only  fitting 
moral  which  such  a  drama  afforded.  Here  Rosaline  rises 
up  to  the  full  height  of  Beatrice. 

[From  Hazlitfs  "  Characters  of '  Shakespear 's  'Plays."'1  *] 
If  we  were  to  part  with  any  of  the  author's  comedies,  it 
should  be  this.  Yet  we  should  be  loath  to  part  with  Don 
Adriano  de  Armaclo,  that  mighty  potentate  of  nonsense  ;  or 
his  page,  that  handful  of  wit ;  with  Nathaniel  the  curate,  or 
Holofernes  the  schoolmaster,  and  their  dispute  after  dinner, 
on  "  the  golden  cadences  of  poetry  ;"  with  Costard  the  clown, 
or  Dull  the  constable.  Biron  is  too  accomplished  a  charac- 
ter to  be  lost  to  the  world,  and  yet  he  could  not  appear  with- 

*  Characters  of  Shakespear's  Plays,  by  William  Hazlitt,  edited  by  W 
Carew  Hazlitt,  (London,  1869),  p.  206  fol. 


INTRODUCTION.  !9 

out  his  fellow-courtiers  and  the  King ;  and  if  we  were  to 
leave  out  the  ladies,  the  gentlemen  would  have  no  mis- 
tresses. So  that  we  believe  we  must  let  the  whole  play 
stand  as  it  is,  and  we  shall  hardly  venture  to  "  set  a  mark  of 
reprobation  on  it."  Still  we  have  some  objections  to  the 
style,  which  we  think  savours  more  of  the  pedantic  spirit  of 
Shakespear's  time  than  of  his  own  genius — more  of  contro- 
versial divinity,  and  the  logic  of  Peter  Lombard,  than  of  the 
inspiration  of  the  muse.  It  transports  us  quite  as  much  to 
the  manners  of  the  court,  and  the  quirks  of  courts  of  law,  as 
to  the  scenes  of  nature,  or  the  fairy-land  of  his  own  imagina- 
tion. 

Shakespear  h.as  set  himself  to  imitate  the  tone  of  polite 
conversation  then  prevailing  among  the  fair,  the  witty,  and 
the  learned  ;  and  he  has  imitated  it  but  too  faithfully.  It  is 
as  if  the  hand  of  Titian  had  been  employed  to  give  grace  to 
the  curls  of  a  full-bottomed  periwig,  or  Raphael  had  attempt- 
ed to  give  expression  to  the  tapestry  figures  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  Shakespear  has  put  an  excellent  description  of  this 
fashionable  jargon  into  the  mouth  of  the  critical  Holofernes, 
"  as  too  picked,  too  spruce,  too  affected,  too  odd,  too  peregri- 
nate, as  I  may  call  it ;"  and  nothing  can  be  more  marked 
than  the  difference  when  he  breaks  loose  from  the  trammels 
he  had  imposed  on  himself,  "as  light  as  bird  from  brake," 
and  speaks  in  his  own  person. 

[From  Verplanck's  "Shakespeare."*] 

There  is  a  general  concurrence  of  opinion,  both  traditional 
and  critical,  that  this  play  was  among  Shakespeare's  earliest 
dramatic  works.  ...  Its  general  resemblance  of  style  and 
thought  to  his  other  early  works,  and  especially  the  "  fre- 
quency of  the  rhymes,  the  sweetness  as  well  as  the  smooth- 
ness of  the  metre,  and  the  number  of  acute  and  fancifully 

*  The  Illustrated  Shakespeare,  edited  by  G.  C-  Varplanck  (New  York. 
1847),  vol.  ii.  p.  5  of  Z.  L.  L. 


20  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

illustrated  aphorisms,"  all  correspond  with  the  idea  of  a 
youthful  work;  while,  as  in  others  of  his  early  works,  we 
also  find  in  the  personages  the  rudiments  of  characters, 
slightly  sketched,  to  which  he  afterwards  returned,  and,  with- 
out repeating  himself,  presented  them  again,  in  a  varied  and 
more  individualized  and  living  form.  Thus,  Biron  contains 
within  him  the  germs  both  of  Benedick  and  of  Jaques  ;  of 
the  one  in  his  colloquial  and  mocking  mood,  and  of  the 
other  in  his  graver  moralities.  Rosaline  is  (in  Coleridge's 
phrase)  "  the  pre-existent  state  of  Beatrice ;"  though  she  is 
as  yet  a  Beatrice  of  the  imagination,  drawn  from  books  or 
report,  rather  than  one  painted  from  familiar  acquaintance. 

Both  the  characters  and  the  dialogue  are  such  as  youthful 
talent  might  well  invent,  without  much  knowledge  of  real 
life,  and  would  indeed  be  likely  to  invent,  before  the  expe- 
rience and  observation  of  varied  society.  The  comedy  pre- 
sents a  picture,  not  of  the  true  every-day  life  of  the  great  or 
the  beautiful,  but  exhibits  groups  of  such  brilliant  person- 
ages as  they  might  be  supposed  to  appear  in  the  artificial 
conversation,  the  elaborate  and  continual  effort  to  surprise  or 
dazzle  by  wit  or  elegance,  which  was  the  prevailing  taste  of 
the  age,  in  its  literature,  its  poetry,  and  even  its  pulpit ;  and 
in  which  the  nobles  and  beauties  of  the  day  were  accus- 
tomed to  array  themselves  for  exhibition,  as  in  their  state 
attire,  for  occasions  of  display.  All  this,  when  the  leading 
idea  was  once  caught,  was  quite  within  the  reach  of  the 
young  poet  to  imitate  or  surpass,  with  little  or  no  personal 
knowledge  of  aristocratic — or  what  would  now  be  termed 
fashionable — society.  English  literature,  a  century  later, 
afforded  a  striking  example  of  the  success  of  a  very  young 
author  in  carrying  to  its  perfection  a  similar  affectation  of 
artificial  wit,  and  studied  conversational  brilliancy — I  mean 
Congreve,  whose  comedies,  the  admiration  of  their  own  age, 
for  their  fertility  of  fantastically  gay  dialogue,  bright  conceits, 
and  witty  repartees,  are  still  read  for  their  abundance  of 


INTROD  UC  TION.  2 1 

lively  imagery  and  play  of  language,  the  "  reciprocation  of 
conceits  and  the  clash  of  wit," — although  the  personages  of 
his  scene,  and  all  that  they  do  and  think,  are  wholly  remote 
from  the  truth,  the  feeling,  and  the  manners  of  real  life. 
These  productions,  so  remarkable  in  their  way,  were  written 
before  Congreve's  twenty-fifth  year;  and  his  first  and  most 
brilliant  comedy  (The  Old  Bachelor)  was  acted  when  he 
was  yet  a  minor.  His  talent,  thus  early  ripe,  did  not  after- 
wards expand  or  refine  itself  into  the  nobler  power  of  teach- 
ing "the  morals  of  the  heart,"  nor  even  into  the  delightful 
girt  of  embodying  the  passing  scenes  of  real  life  in  graphic 
and  durable  pictures.  But  his  writings  afford  a  memorable 
proof  how  soon  the  graces  and  brilliant  effects  of  mere  intel- 
lect can  be  acquired,  while  those  works  of  genius  which  re- 
quire the  co-operation  and  the  knowledge  of  man's  moral 
nature  are  of  slower  and  later  growth. 

This  comedy,  then,  marks  the  transition  of  Shakespeare's 
mind  through  the  Congreve  character  of  invention  and  dia- 
logue ;  that  of  lively  and  artificial  brilliancy — a  region  in 
which  he  did  not  long  loiter — 

"  But  stoop'd  to  truth,  and  moraliz'd  his  song." 

These  remarks  apply  to  the  general  contexture  of  the 
comedy,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  dialogue.  But  it  must 
not  be  overlooked  that  the  whole  is  not  the  work  of  a  mere 
boy.  It  had  been  played  before  Queen  Elizabeth,  accord- 
ing to  the  title-page  of  the  edition  of  1598,  "this  last  Christ- 
mas," and,  as  it  then  shortly  after  appeared  "  newly  corrected 
and  augmented,'-'  it  is  probable  that  the  author  had  followed 
the  fashion  of  his  times,  when  (according  to  Mr.  Collier)  "it 
was  common  for  dramatists  to  revise  and  improve  their  plays, 
when  they  were  selected  for  exhibition  at  court."  It  does 
not  imply  any  great  presumption  of  criticism,  or  demand  pe- 
culiar delicacy  of  discrimination,  to  separate  many  of  these 
acknowledged  additions  fr<5m  the  lighter  and  less  valuable 


22  LOME'S  LABOUR'S  LOST. 

materials  in  which  they  are  inserted.  Rosaline's  character 
of  Biron  in  the  second  act,  and  her  dialogue  with  him  at  the 
winding  up  of  the  drama,  and  Biron's  speeches  in  the  first 
and  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  act,  are  among  the  passages 
which  appropriate  themselves  at  once  to  the  period  of  the 
composition  of  the  Midsummer- Nights  Dream  or  the  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,  not  less  in  the  mood  of  thought  than  in  the 
peculiar  poetic  style  and  melody. 

The  story  itself  is  but  slight,  the  incidents  few,  and  the 
higher  characters,  though  varied,  are  but  sketchily  drawn  — 
at  least,  taking  the  author's  own  maturer  style  of  execution 
in  that  way  as  the  standard.  There  was,  therefore,  no  very 
great  effort  of  original  invention  in  either  respect ;  but  what- 
ever there  is,  either  of  plot  or  character,  belongs  to  the  author 
alone  :  for  the  diligence  of  the  critics  and  antiquarians  (Stee- 
vens,  Skottowe,  Collier,  etc.)  who  have  been  most  successful 
in  tracing  out  the  rough  materials  of  romance,  tradition,  or 
history  used  by  Shakespeare  for  the  construction  of  his  dra- 
mas, has  entirely  failed  in  discovering  any  thing  of  the  kind 
in  any  older  author,  native  or  foreign,  to  which  he  could  have 
been  indebted  on  this  occasion.  It  is  well  worthy  of  remark 
that  Shakespeare,  in  his  earlier  works,  bestowed  more  of 
the  labour  of  invention  upon  his  plot  and  incidents  than  he 
generally  did  afterwards,  when  he  usually  selected  known 
personages,  to  whom  and  to  the  outline  of  whose  story  the 
popular  mind  was  already  somewhat  familiar — thus,  prob- 
ably quite  unconsciously,  adopting  from  his  own  experience 
the  usage  of  the  great  Greek  dramatists.  It  may  be  that  the 
impress  of  reality,  which  the  circumstance  of  familiar  names 
and  events  lends  to  the  drama,  more  than  compensated  for 
any  pleasure  that  mere  novelty  of  incident  could  give  either 
to  the  author  or  his  audience.  But,  in  his  characters  of 
broad  humour,  Shakespeare  is  here,  as  he  always  is,  original 
and  inventive.  Although  the  Pedant  and  the  Braggart  are 
characters  familiar  to  the  old  Italian  stage,  yet  if  the  drama- 


INTRODUCTION.  ,3 

tist  derived  the  general  notion  of  such  personages,  as  fitted 
for  stage-effect,  from  any  Italian  source  (for  the  presumption 
is  but  remote),  still  he  assuredly  painted  them  and  their 
affectations  from  the  life  ;  these  being  characters,  as  Cole- 
ridge justly  observes,  which  "  a  country  town  and  a  school- 
boy's observation  might  supply." 

All  the  personages  of  broader  humour,  in  spite  of  their 
extravagances  and  droll  absurdities,  have  still  an  air  of  truth, 
a  solidity  of  effect,  which  at  once  indicates  that,  however 
heightened  and  exaggerated,  still  they  came  upon  the  stage 
from  the  real  world,  and  not  from  the  author's  fancy;  and 
this  solidity  and  reality  tend  to  give  a  more  unreal  and 
shadowy  tone  to  the  other  and  more  courtly  and  poetic  per- 
sonages of  the  comedy.  Such  a  remark  can  apply  only  to 
Shakespeare's  very  early  dramatic  works.  The  other  comic 
creations  of  the  second  stage  of  the  poet's  career — Launce- 
lot  Gobbo,  or  Falstaff — do  not  command  the  temporary  illu- 
sion of  the  stage  more  than  the  nobler  personages  with  whom 
they  are  contrasted.  Juliet  is  as  true  and  real  as  her  Nurse. 

[From  Knight's  "  Pictorial  Shakspere."  *] 

Charles  Lamb  was  wont  to  call  Lore's  Labour  's  Lost  the 
Comedy  of  Leisure.  'T  is  certain  that  in  the  commonwealth 
of  King  Ferdinand  of  Navarre  we  have, 

"  all  men  idle,  all  ; 
And  women  too." 

The  courtiers,  in  their  pursuit  of  "  that  angel  knowledge," 
waste  their  time  in  subtle  contentions,  how  that  angel  is  to 
be  won ;  the  ladies  from  France  spread  their  pavilions  in 
the  sunny  park,  and  there  keep  up  their  round  of  jokes  with 
their  "  wit's  peddler,"  Boyet,  "  the  nice  ;"  Armado  listens 
to  his  page  while  he  warbles  "  Concolinel  ; "  Jaquenetta, 
though  she  is  "  allowed  for  the  dey,"  seems  to  have  no  dairy 
*  Pictorial  Edition  of  Shakspfre,  edited  by  Charles  Knight  (2d  ed. 
London,  1867),  vol.  ii.  of  Ccmedies,  p.  130  fol. 


24  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

to  look  after;  Costard  acts  as  if  he  were  neither  plough- 
man nor  swineherd,  and  born  for  no  other  work  than  to 
laugh  forever  at  Moth,  and,  in  the  excess  of  his  love  for 
that  "pathetical  nit,"  to  exclaim,  "An  I  had  but  one  penny 
in  the  world,  thou  shouldst  have  it  to  buy  gingerbread;" 
the  schoolmaster  appears  to  be  without  scholars,  the  curate 
without  a  cure,  the  constable  without  watch  and  ward. 
There  is,  indeed,  one  parenthesis  of  real  business  connect- 
ed with  the  progress  of  the  action — the  difference  between 
France  and  Navarre,  in  the  matter  of  Aquitaine.  But  the 
settlement  of  this  business  is  deferred  till  "to-morrow" — the 
"  packet  of  specialities  "  is  not  come  ;  and  whether  Aquitaine 
goes  back  to  France,  or  the  hundred  thousand  crowns  return 
to  Navarre,  we  never  learn.  This  matter,  then,  being  post- 
poned till  a  more  fitting  season,  the  whole  set  abandon 
themselves  to  what  Dr.  Johnson  calls  "strenuous  idleness." 
The  king  and  his  courtiers  forswear  their  studies,  and  every 
man  becomes  a  lover  and  a  sonneteer;  the  refined  traveller 
of  Spain  resigns  himself  to  his  passion  for  the  dairy-maid; 
the  schoolmaster  and  the  curate  talk  learnedly  after  dinner; 
and,  at  last,  the  king,  the  nobles,  the  priest,  the  pedant,  the 
braggart,  the  page,  and  the  clown  join  in  one  dance  of  mum- 
mery, in  which  they  all  laugh,  and  are  laughed  at.  But  still 
all  this  idleness  is  too  energetic  to  warrant  us  in  calling 
this  the  Comedy  of  Leisure.  Let  us  try  again.  Is  it  not  the 
Comedy  of  Affectations? 

Moliere,  in  his  Precieuses  Ridicules,  has  admirably  hit  off 
one  affectation  that  had  found  its  way  into  the  private  life 
of  his  own  times.  The  ladies  aspired  to  be  wooed  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Grand  Cyrus.  Madelon  will  be  called  Poli- 
xene,  and  Cathos  Aminte.  They  dismiss  their  plain  honest 
lovers,  because  marriage  ought  to  be  at  the  end  of  the  ro- 
mance, and  not  at  the  beginning.  They  dote  upon  Masca- 
rille  (the  disguised  lackey)  when  he  assures  them  "  Les 
gens  de  qualite'  savent  tout  sans  avoir  jamais  rien  appris." 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

They  are  in  ecstasies  at  every  thing.  Madelon  is  "furieuse- 
ment  pour  les  portraits;"  Cathos  loves  "terriblement  les 
dnigmes."  Even  Mascarille's  ribbon  is  "  furieusement  bien 
choisi ;"  his  gloves  "sentent  terriblement  bons ;"  and  his 
feathers  are  "  effroyablement  belles."  But  in  the  Pre- 
cieuses  Ridicules,  Moliere,  as  we  have  said,  dealt  with  one 
affectation  ;  in  Loves  Labour 's  Lost  Shakspere  presents  us 
almost  every  variety  of  affectation  that  is  founded  upon  a 
misdirection  of  intellectual  activity.  We  have  here  many  of 
the  forms  in  which  cleverness  is  exhibited  as  opposed  to  wis- 
dom, and  false  refinement  as  opposed  to  simplicity.  The 
affected  characters,  even  the  most  fantastical,  are  not  fools ; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  the  natural  characters,  who,  in  this 
play,  are  chiefly  the  women,  have  their  intellectual  foibles. 
All  the  modes  of  affectation  are  developed  in  one  continued 
stream  of  fun  and  drollery;  every  one  is  laughing  at  the 
folly  of  the  other,  and  the  laugh  grows  louder  and  louder  as 
the  more  natural  characters,  one  by  one,  trip  up  the  heels  of 
the  more  affected.  The  most  affected  at  last  join  in  the 
laugh  with  the  most  natural ;  and  the  whole  comes  down  to 
"  plain  kersey  yea  and  nay  " — from  the  syntax  of  Holofernes, 
and  the  "fire-new  words  "  of  Armado,  to  "greasy  Joan  "  and 
"  roasted  crabs." 

[From  Dowdeii's  "  Shakspere."  *] 

Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  if  we  do  not  assign  that  place  to 
The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  is  the  first  independent, 
wholly  original  work  of  Shakspere.  Mr.  Charles  Knight 
named  it  "  The  Comedy  of  Affectations,"  and  that  title 
aptly  interprets  one  intention  of  the  play.  It  is  a  satirical 
extravaganza  embodying  Shakspere's  criticism  upon  con- 
temporary fashions  and  foibles  in  speech,  in  manners,  and  in 
literature.  This  probably,  more  than  any  other  of  the  plays 

*  Shakspere :  a  Critical  Study  of  Ins  Mind  and  Art,  by  Edward  Dow- 
den  (2d  ed.  London,  1876),  p.  62  fol. 


26  LOVE  'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

of  Shakspere,  suffers  through  lapse  of  time.  Fantastical 
speech,  pedantic  learning,  extravagant  love-hyperbole,  frigid 
fervours  in  poetry — against  each  of  these,  with  the  bright- 
ness and  vivacity  of  youth,  confident  in  the  success  of  its 
cause,  Shakspere  directs  the  light  artillery  of  his  wit.  Be- 
ing young  and  clever,  he  is  absolutely  devoid  of  respect  for 
nonsense,  whether  it  be  dainty,  affected  nonsense,  or  grave, 
unconscious  nonsense. 

But,  over  and  above  this,  there  is  a  serious  intention  in  the 
play.  It  is  a  protest  against  youthful  schemes  of  shaping 
life  according  to  notions  rather  than  according  to  reality,  a 
protest  against  idealizing  away  the  facts  of  life.  The  play  is 
chiefly  interesting  as  containing  Shakspere's  confession  of 
faith  with  respect  to  the  true  principles  of  self-culture.  The 
King  of  Navarre  and  his  young  lords  had  resolved,  for  a 
definite  period  of  time,  to  circumscribe  their  beings  and  their 
lives  with  a  little  code  of  rules.  They  had  designed  to  en- 
close a  little  favoured  park  in  which  ideas  should  rule  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  blind  and  rude  forces  of  nature.  They  were 
pleased  to  rearrange  human  character  and  human  life,  so  that 
it  might  accord  with  their  idealistic  scheme  of  self-develop- 
ment. The  court  was  to  be  a  little  Academe  ;  no  woman  was 
to  be  looked  at  for  the  space  of  three  years ;  food  and  sleep 
were  to  be  placed  under  precise  regulation.  And  the  result 
is — what?  That  human  nature  refuses  to  be  dealt  with  in 
this  fashion  of  arbitrary  selection  and  rejection.  The  youth- 
ful idealists  had  supposed  that  they  would  form  a  little  group 
of  select  and  refined  ascetics  of  knowledge  and  culture ;  it 
was  quickly  proved  that  they  were  men.  The  play  is  Shak- 
spere's declaration  in  favour  of  the  fact  as  it  is.  Here,  he 
says,  we  are  with  such  and  such  appetites  and  passions.  Let 
us,  in  any  scheme  of  self-development,  get  that  fact  acknowl- 
edged at  all  events;  otherwise  we  shall  quickly  enough  be- 
tray ourselves  as  arrant-fools,  fit  to  be  flouted  by  women,  and 
needing  to  learn  from  them  a  portion  of  their  directness, 
practicalitv,  and  good-sense. 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

And  yet  the  Princess  and  Rosaline  and  Maria  have  not  the 
entire  advantage  on  their  side.  It  is  well  to  be  practical,  but 
to  be  practical,  and  also  to  have  a  capacity  for  ideas,  is  better. 
Berowne,  the  exponent  of  Shakspere's  own  thought,  who  en- 
tered into  the  youthful,  idealistic  project  of  his  friends,  with  a 
satisfactory  assurance  that  the  time  would  come  when  the  en- 
tire dream-structure  would  tumble  ridiculously  about  the  ears 
of  them  all — Berowne  is  yet  a  larger  nature  than  the  Prin- 
cess or  Rosaline.  His  good-sense  is  the  good-sense  of  a 
thinker  and  of  a  man  of  action.  When  lie  is  most  flouted 
and  bemocked,  we  yet  acknowledge  him  victorious  and  the 
master;  and  Rosaline  will  confess  the  fact  by-and-by. 

In  the  midst  of  merriment  and  nonsense  comes  a  sudden 
and  grievous  incursion  of  fact  full  of  pain.  The  father  of 
the  Princess  is  dead.  All  the  world  is  not  mirth — "  this 
side  is  Hiems,  Winter  ;  this  Ver,  the  Spring."  The  lovers 
must  part — "Jack  hath  not  his  Jill;"  and  to  engrave  the 
lesson  deeply,  which  each  heart  needs,  the  King  and  two 
of  his  companions  are  dismissed  for  a  twelvemonth  to  learn 
the  difference  between  reality  and  unreality  ;  while  Berowne, 
who  has  known  the  mirth  of  the  world,  must  also  make 
acquaintance  with  its  sorrow,  must  visit  the  speechless  sick 
and  try  to  win  "the  pained  impotent  to  smile." 

Let  us  get  hold  of  the  realities  of  human  nature  and  hu- 
man life,  Shakspere  would  say,  and  let  us  found  upon  these 
realities,  and  not  upon  the  mist  or  the  air,  our  schemes  of 
individual  and  social  advancement.  Not  that  Shakspere  is 
hostile  to  culture  ;  but  he  knows  that  a  perfect  education 
must  include  the  culture,  through  actual  experience,  of  the 
senses  and  of  the  affections. 

\Frcm  Charles  Cowden- Clarke's  "Shakespeare-Characters."*] 

Charles  Armitage  Brown,  in  his  clever  volume  upon  the 
Autobiographical  Poems  of  Shakespeare,  pronounces  that  our 

*  From  the  unpublished  "  Second  Series  "  of  the  Shakespeare-  Characters 
(see  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  18),  through  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Mary  Cowder-Clarke. 


2g  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

poet's  purpose  in  constructing  the  comedy  of  Love's  Labour  'j 
Lost  was  to  satirize  the  fantastic  gallantry  of  his  age,  and  he 
adds  :  "  As  such,  it  must  have  been  understood  in  his  day, 
and  keenly  so;  and  it  is  our  business  to  understand  it  in  the 
same  way,  or  confine  ourselves  to  those  passages  of  elegant 
language  and  eloquence  which  he  has  brought  forward  as 
contrasts  to  the  rest."  It  is  probable  that  this  may  have 
been  Shakespeare's  intention  ;  and  if  so,  he  has  performed 
his  task  in  the  pure  spirit  of  his  own  gentle  nature,  for  a 
more  meek  and  unoffending  satire  never  was  penned. 
The  whole  play  is  like  one  of  the  high-flown  romances 
of  that  age  dramatized;  Sir  Philip  Sidney  might  have 
written  it.  It  is  a  play  consisting  almost  solely  of  conver- 
sation ;  for  the  plot  (if  plot  it  can  be  called  where  plot  is 
none,  but  a  mere  peg  whereon  to  hang  the  dialogue)  con- 
sists simply  in  a  young  king  of  Navarre  and  his  three  attend- 
ant lords  and  fellow-scholars  entering  into  a  compact  for 
three  years,  under  severe  penalty,  to  live  a  life  of  seclusion, 
and  to  talk  with  no  woman  during  that  term.  A  princess  of 
France,  however,  with  her  three  lady  attendants,  comes  on 
an  embassy  from  her  father  to  demand  an  interview  with  the 
king ;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  all  the  gentlemen,  one 
after  the  other,  break  their  compact,  and  fall  fathoms  deep 
in  love  with  the  fair  missionaries.  .  .  . 

The  play  I  have  uniformly  found  to  be  a  favourite  with 
scholarly  men  ;  not  so  much,  as  it  should  seem,  for  the  choice 
language  ir  the  serious  love-scenes,  as  for  the  solemn  hu- 
mour in  the  Spaniard,  and  the  broad  caricature  in  the  peda- 
gogue ;  both  of  which,  though  really  amusing,  clearly  betray 
the  stamp  of  youth  in  the  invention,  as  well  as  in  their  linea- 
ments of  character.  The  earnestness  in  the  tone  of  gal- 
lantry put  into  the  mouth  of  the  young  lord  Biron  (who,  by 
the  way,  is  an  elegant,  and,  in  every  sense,  a  perfect  squire  of 
dames)  is  another  corroboration  of  the  play  having  been  an 
early  production  of  Shakespeare's  ;  and  lastly,  a  great  portion 


INTRODUCTION. 


29 


of  the  dialogue  being  written  in  doggerel  verse,  and  much 
of  it  even  in  alternate  rhymes,  and  which  we  find  only  in  his 
acknowledged  early  plays,  and  rarely  in  those  that  are  proved 
to  be  the  production  of  his  latter  years,  all  confirm  the  be- 
lief as  to  its  date. 

There  is  little  or  no  variety  in  the  principal  characters ; 
hence,  there  is  no  ground  for  critical  disquisition,  or  for 
notice  of  intellectual  discrimination.  The  King,  Ferdinand, 
has  nothing  regal  in  his  deportment,  but  is  really  a  social 
companion  to  Dumain,  Longaville,  and  Biron,  who  call  them- 
selves his  attendants  ;  and  they  are  all  like  birds  of  one 
nest,  only  Biron  is  the  strongest  in  song, — and  a  happy 
brood  of  Arcadians  they  all  are. 

The  princess,  too,  and  her  attendants  are  of  the  like  class, 
and  worthy  to  be  mated  with  beings  who  led  a  life  of  unof- 
fending gayety  and  mirth,  and  who  might  have  brought  back 
the  golden  age,  when  their  first  parents  held  the  fee-simple 
of  Eden.  .  .  . 

The  whole  company — Holofernes  and  all — vie  with  each 

other  in 

"  Taffeta  phrases,  silken  terms  precise, 
Three-pil'd  hyperboles,  spruce  affectation, 
Figures  pedantical." 

The  youngster,  Moth,  with  that  clear-sightedness  with  which 
quick  children  perceive  the  foibles  of  their  elders,  says  of 
them,  that  "  they  have  been  at  a  great  feast  of  languages,  and 
stolen  the  scraps."  The  shrewd  young  rogue — "that  hand- 
ful of  wit,"  as  Costard  calls  him — has  "purchased  his  little 
experience  by  his  penny  of  observation."  He  is  of  the  fresh 
age  to  relish  a  joke,  and  with  the  best  effect  to  fan  the  flame 
of  his  master's  affectation  and  conceit ;  and  which  would 
come  with  weaker  effect  from  an  elder  hand.  It  is  notice- 
able that  Shakespeare  has  frequently  brought  grave  and 
mirthful  characters  into  juxtaposition,  as  if  willing  (and  from 
preference)  to  show  the  latter  in  advantageous  comparison 


3° 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


with  the  staid  virtue  :  witness  Jaques  and  the  other  foresters  •, 
Antonio  and  Gratiano  ;  Malvolio  and  Maria.  So  here  the 
grave  pomposity  of  Don  Adriano  de  Armaclo  is  amusingly 
brought  in  contrasted  combination  with  his  whipper-snapper 
little  page.  The  Don  is  a  Spaniard,  with  all  the  gravity  of 
his  nation,  and  all  the  tardiness  and  deliberation  of  his  race. 
The  non-dispatch  in  the  Spanish  character  has  been  pro- 
verbial for  centuries.  Bacon,  in  one  of  his  Essays,  quotes  a 
common  saying  of  the  time  to  that  effect:  "Mi  venga  la 
muerte  de  Spagna"  (May  my  death  come  from  Spain). 
Armado  has  also  all  the  fashionable  gravity  of  a  courtier, 
attached  to  a  monarch  who  patronizes  studiousness;  and  all 
the  fantastic  solemnity  of  an  affectation  that  chooses  to  fan- 
cy itself  sublimely  enamoured  of  a  damsel  of  low  degree. 
Jaquenetta  is  another  Dulcinea  del  Toboso.  The  Hidalgo 
is  fathoms  deep  in  love,  as  the  Knight  of  la  Mancha  adores 
his  peasant  wench,  exalting  her  into  the  beacon,  the  cynosure 
of  all  his  cogitations.  Against  the  high-flown  fantasies  and 
didactic  flourishes  of  Armado,  the  snapping,  lap-dog  repar- 
tees of  his  page  come  with  as  agreeable  as  whimsical  effect ; 
of  which  their  opening  colloquy  (the  second  scene  of  the 
first  act)  is  a  choice  specimen. 

Sir  Nathaniel  the  curate,  and  Holofernes  the  school-mas- 
ter, furnish  a  signal  proof  of  the  foolery  of  pedantry.  But 
they  are  not  altogether  so  much  natural  fools  as  voluntary 
fools  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  fools  of  their  own  making.  They  are 
not  born  fools,  but  bred  fools.  They  are  blockheads  of  learn- 
ing,— dolts  of  erudition,-  oafs  of  knowledge, — the  fools  of 
pedantry.  Quaint  old  Montaigne,  talking  of  pedantic  acqui- 
sition, asks  naively:  "  What  is  the  use  of  having  our  paunch 
full  of  meat,  if  it  do  not  digest,  and  become  part  of  us,  and 
augment  and  strengthen  us?"  and  he  maintains  that  "time 
lost  in  pedantic  study  is  worse  than  time  idled  away  playing 
at  ball ;  for  that,  at  least,  animates  the  body,  whereas,  in 
the  other  case,  all  that  his  Latin  and  Greek  has  done  for  a 
lad  is  to  render  him 'more  silly  and  presumptuous  than  he 


INTRODUCTION.  3! 

was  before  he  left  home."  So  with  our  two  quacks  of  learn- 
ing ;  they  are  intensely  vain  of  their  hoard  of  useless  rub- 
bish. They  pride  themselves,  and  in  no  stinted  terms,  upon 
the  conscious  possession  of  it ;  they  lose  no  opportunity  of 
heaping  additions  to  its  store,  and  neglect  no  occasion  of 
displaying  its  extent.  They  laud  themselves ;  they  begaum 
each  other ;  and  they  disdain  everybody  besides.  Holo- 
fernes  exclaims  of  Dull  the  constable:  "  Twice-sod  sim- 
plicity, bis  coctus  !  O  thou  monster  ignorance,  how  deform- 
ed dost  thou  look !"  And  Sir  Nathaniel  rejoins  compla- 
cently :  "  Sir,  he  hath  never  fed  of  the  dainties  that  are  bred 
in  a  book  ;  he  hath  not  eat  paper,  as  it  were  ;  he  hath  not 
drunk  ink  ;  his  intellect  is  not  replenished  ;  he  is  only  an 
animal,  only  sensible  in  the  duller  parts  ;  and  such  barren 
plants  are  set  before  us,  that  we  thankful  should  be  (which 
we  of  taste  and  feeling  are)  for  those  parts  that  do  fructify 
in  us  more  than  he." 

Delectable  fructification  truly,  if  these  be  the  fruits  of 
book-learning!  This  is  the  very  quintessence  of  conceit  and 
complacency. 

That  is  a  rich  bout  at  nonsense-fun  where  the  two  owls 
are  indulging  their  pedantical  rodomontade:  Holofernes 
spouting  like  a  conduit ;  Sir  Nathaniel  dotingly  aping  him, 
and  even  noting  down  some  of  his  favourite  flourishes,  that 
he  may,  upon  occasion,  sport  them  himself;  while  three  more 
oddities  arrive  upon  the  scene,  heaping  up  the  absurdity. 
The  Spanish  solemnity  of  Don  Armado,  the  childish  pert- 
ness  of  little  Moth,  and  the  boorish  humour  of  Costard 
come  into  ludicrous  conjunction  with  the  learned  foolery  of 
the  two  others  ;  while  the  whole  is  crowned  by  the  dense 
fog  of  gooclman  DulPs  obtuseness,  who  has  neither  "  spoken  " 
nor  "  understood  "  one  "  word  all  this  while,"  but  who  thinks 
he  might  "make  one  in  a  dance  or  so,"  or  perchance  "  play 
on  the  tabor  to  the  Worthies,  and  let  them  dance  the  hay." 

There  is  an  exuberance,  an  extravagance  in  Shakespeare's 
fun  which  is  infectious.  We  laugh  in  spite  of  ourselves,  as 


32 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


ir.  were ;  stung  by  that  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  which  has 
evidently  smitten  and  inspired  the  writer.  We  feel,  in  read- 
ing Shakespeare's  drollery,  that  he  himself  had  a  relish  for 
it;  that  he  enjoyed  a  frolic  of  words;  that  he  loved  a  bout 
of  jesting;  that  he  revelled  in  a  spell  of  waggery  and  non- 
sense :  "  Most  nonsense,  best  sense,"  as  beloved  Charles 
Lamb  said.  One  of  the  poet's  critics  has  well  said  that  "in 
no  one  point,  perhaps,  does  he  exaggerate  but  in  laughter." 
There  is  a  hearty,  outpouring,  overflowing  flood  in  Shake- 
speare's laughter,  which,  like  laughter  with  an  intimate  friend, 
is  at  once  irresistible  in  sympathy,  and  deliciously  wholesome 
in  its  freedom  and  light-hearted  abandonment.  We  are  the 
better  for  such  laughter  ;  we  are  the  better  for  an  explosive, 
unrestrained  shout  with  a  friend,  or  with  such  a  friend-book 
as  Shakespeare's,  such  a  frie-nd-writer  as  Shakespeare  him- 
self. After  we  have  steeped  our  souls  in  his  profound 
truths,  and  saturated  our  minds  with  his  sublime  wisdom,  we 
may  recreate  our  spirits  with  his  humorous  pictures,  and  re- 
fresh our  hearts  with  his  cordial,  genial  images.  We  may 
learn  from  him,  gravely,  studiously,  profitably;  and  we  may, 
after,  laugh  with  him,  gayly,  mirthfully,  joyously,  even  to  the 
very  tip-top  of  hilarious,  tear-provoking  laughter;  and  still 
with  profit  to  ourselves.  For  few  things  have  we  more  cause 
to  be  grateful  than  for  a  true  and  genuine  source  of  true  and 
genuine  laughter.  Laughter  beautifies  the  human  face,  it 
irradiates  the  countenance,  it  lights  up  the  eyes  in  lustrous 
sparkles,  it  dimples  the  mouth,  it  moulds  plainest  features 
into  comeliness  and  grace.  It  cheers  and  sweetens  the  tem- 
per, it  invigorates  and  animates  the  frame.  It  diminishes 
ills,  it  lightens  care,  it  softens  trouble.  It  casts  petty  an- 
noyances into  shade  and  oblivion  ;  it  destroys  wrath,  and 
kills  vexation.  For  such  benefits  as  these,  among  a  legion 
of  others,  have  we  to  thank  Shakespeare  ;  since  the  laugh- 
ter that  he  furnishes  — like  all  else  that  his  pages  supply — is 
matchless  of  its  kind. 


LOVE'S     LABOUR    'S     LOST. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

FERDINAND,  King  of  Navarre. 

BIRON,  \ 

LONGAVILLE,  V  lords  attending  on  the  King. 

DUMAIN,  ) 

BOYET,        |  lords  attending  on  the  Princess  of 
MERCADE,  f      France. 

DON  ADRIANO  DE  ARMADO,  a  fantastical  Span- 
iard. 

SIR  NATHANIEL,  a  curate. 
HOLOFERNKS,  a  schoolmaster. 
DULL,  a  constable. 
COSTARD,  a  clown. 
MOTH,  page  to  Armado. 
A  Forester. 

THE  PRINCESS  OF  FRANCE. 

ROSALINE,      j 

MARIA,  V  ladies  attending  on  the  Princess. 

KATHERINE,  ) 

JAQUENETTA,  a  country  wench. 

Lords,  Attendants,  etc. 
SCENE:  Navarre. 


Thy  curious-knotted  garden  (i   i   237). 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  I.      The  King  of  Navarre's  Park. 

Enter  FERDINAND,  King  of  NAVARRE,  BIRON,  LONGAVILLE, 
and  DUMAIN. 

King.  Let  fame,  that  all  hunt  after  in  their  lives, 
Live  register'd  upon  our  brazen  tombs, 
And  then  grace  us  in  the  disgrace  of  death ; 
When,  spite  of  cormorant  devouring  Time, 
The  endeavour  of  this  present  breath  may  buy 
That  honour  which  shall  bate  his  scythe's  keen  edge 
And  make  us  heirs  of  all  eternity. 
Therefore,  brave  conquerors, — for  so  you  are, 
That  war  against  your  own  affections 


36  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

And  the  huge  army  of  the  world's  desires, —  10 

Our  late  edict  shall  strongly  stand  in  force. 

Navarre  shall  be  the  wonder  of  the  world ; 

Our  court  shall  be  a  little  Academe, 

Still  and  contemplative  in  living  art. 

You  three,  Biron,  Dumain,  and  Longaville, 

Have  sworn  for  three  years'  term  to  live  with  me 

My  fellow-scholars,  and  to  keep  those  statutes 

That  are  recorded  in  this  schedule  here. 

Your  oaths  are  pass'd  ;  and  now  subscribe  your  names, 

That  his  own  hand  may  strike  his  honour  down  20 

That  violates  the  smallest  branch  herein. 

If  you  are  arm'd  to  do  as  sworn  to  do, 

Subscribe  to  your  deep  oaths,  and  keep  it  too. 

Longaville.  I  am  resolv'd ;  't  is  but  a  three  years'  fast : 
The  mind  shall  banquet,  though  the  body  pine. 
Fat  paunches  have  lean  pates,  and  dainty  bits 
Make  rich  the  ribs,  but  bankrupt  quite  the  wits. 

Dumain.  My  loving  lord,  Dumain  is  mortified  ; 
The  grosser  manner  of  these  world's  delights 
He  throws  upon  the  gross  world's  baser  slaves.  3° 

To  love,  to  wealth,  to  pomp,  I  pine  and  die, 
With  all  these  living  in  philosophy. 

Biron.  I  can  but  say  their  protestation  over; 
So  much,  dear  liege,  I  have  already  sworn, 
That  is,  to  live  and  study  here  three  years. 
But  there  are  other  strict  observances; 
As,  not  to  see  a  woman  in  that  term, 
Which  I  hope  well  is  not  enrolled  there; 
And  one  day  in  a  week  to  touch  no  food, 
And  but  one  meal  on  every  day  beside,  fo 

The  which  I  hope  is  not  enrolled  there; 
And  then,  to  sleep  but  three  hours  in  the  night, 
And  not  be  seen  to  wink  of  all  the  day — 
When  I  was  wont  to  think  no  harm  all  night, 


ACT  I.     SCENE  1.  37 

And  make  a  dark  night  too  of  half  the  day, — 
Which  I  hope  well  is  not  enrolled  there. 
O,  these  are  barren  tasks,  too  hard  to  keep, 
Not  to  see  ladies,  study,  fast,  not  sleep  ! 

King.  Your  oath  is  pass'd  to  pass  away  from  these. 

Biron.  Let  me  say  no,  my  liege,  aji  if  you  please;  50 

I  only  swore  to  study  with  your  grace, 
And  stay  here  in  your  court  for  three  years'  space. 

Longaville.  You  swore  to  that,  Biron,  and  to  the  rest. 

Biron.  By  yea  and  nay,  sir,  then  I  swore  in  jest. 
What  is  the  end  of  study  ?  let  me  know. 

King.    Why,  that   to   know   which   else   we    should    not 
know. 

Biron.  Things  hid  and  barr'd,  you  mean,  from  common 
sense? 

King.  Ay,  that  is  study's  godlike  recompense. 

Biron.   Come  on,  then  ;  I  will  swear  to  study  so 
To  know  the  thing  I  am  forbid  to  know:  60 

As  thus, — to  study  where  I  well  may  dine, 

When  I  to  feast  expressly  am  forbid  ; 
Or  study  where  to  meet  some  mistress  fine, 

When  mistresses  from  common  sense  are  hid; 
Or,  having  sworn  too  hard  a  keeping  oath, 
Study  to  break  it  and  not  break  my  troth. 
If  study's  gain  be  thus,  and  this  be  so, 
Study  knows  that  which  yet  it  doth  not  know. 
Swear  me  to  this,  and  I  will  ne'er  say  no. 

King.  These  be  the  stops  that  hinder  study  quite,  70 

And  train  our  intellects  to  vain  delight. 

Biron.  Why,  all  delights  are  vain ;  and  that  most  vain 
Which  with  pain  purchas'd  doth  inherit  pain  : 
As,  painfully  to  pore  upon  a  book 

To  seek  the  light  of  truth,  while  truth  the  while 
Doth  falsely  blind  the  eyesight  of  his  look. 

Light  seeking  light  doth  light  of  light  beguile ; 


38  LOWS  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


So,  ere  you  find  where  light  in  darkness  li 

Your  light  grows  dark  by  losing  of  your  eyes. 

Study  me  how  to  please  the  eye  indeed  so 

By  fixing  it  upon  a  fairer  eye, 
Who  dazzling  so,  that  eye  shall  be  his  heed, 

And  give  him  light  that  it  was  blinded  by. 
Study  is  like  the  heaven's  glorious  sun, 

That  will  not  be  deep-search'd  with  saucy  looks  ; 
Small  have  continual  plodders  ever  won, 

Save  base  authority  from  others'  books. 
These  earthly  godfathers  of  heaven's  lights, 

That  give  a  name  to  every  fixed  star, 
Have  no  more  profit  of  their  shining  nights  90 

Than  those  that  walk  and  wot  not  what  they  are. 
Too  much  to  know  is  to  know  nought  but  fame; 
And  every  godfather  can  give  a  name. 

King.   How  well  he  's  read,  to  reason  against  reading  ! 

Dumain.   Proceeded  well,  to  stop  all  good  proceeding! 

Longaville.  He   weeds  the  corn   and   still   lets  grow  the 
weeding. 

Biron.  The  spring  is  near  when  green  geese  are  a-breeding. 

Dumain.  How  follows  that  ? 

Biron.  Fit  in  his  place  and  time. 

Dumain.   In  reason  nothing. 

Biron.  Something  then  in  rhyme. 

King.   Biron  is  like  an  envious  sneaping  frost  too 

That  bites  the  first-born  infants  of  the  spring. 

Biron.  Well,  say  I  am  ;  why  should  proud  summer  boast 

Before  the  birds  have  any  cause  to  sing? 
Why  should  I  joy  in  an  abortive  birth  ? 

At  Christmas  I  no  more  desire  a  rose 
Than  wish  a  snow  in  May's  new-fangled  mirth, 

But  like  Q_f  each  thing  that  in  season  grows. 
So  you,  to  study  now  it  is  too  late, 
Climb  o'er  the  house  to  unlock  the  little  gate. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 


39 


King.   Well,  sit  you  out :  go  home,  Biron  ;  adieu  !  no 

Biron.  No,  my  good  lord ;  I  have  sworn  to  stay  with  you : 
And  though  I  have  for  barbarism  spoke  more 

Than  for  that  angel  knowledge  you  can  say, 
Yet  confident  I  '11  keep  what  I  have  swore, 

And  bide  the  penance  of  each  three  years'  day. 
Give  me  the  paper  :  let  me  read  the  same; 
And  to  the  strict'st  decrees  I  '11  write  my  name. 

King.  How  well  this  yielding  rescues  thee  from  shame  ! 

Biron.  [Reads]  '  Item,  That  no  woman  shall  come  within  a 
mile  of  my  court :'  Hath  this  been  proclaimed?  120 

Longaville.  Four  days  ago. 

Biron.  Let 's  see  the  penalty.  [Reads]  '  On  pain  of  losing 
her  tongue.'1 — Who  devised  this  penalty? 

Longaville.  Marry,  that  did  I. 

Biron.  Sweet  lord,  and  why  ? 

Longaville.  To  fright  them  hence  with  that  dread  penalty. 

Biron.  A  dangerous  law  against  gentility  ! 

[Reads]  'Item,  If  any  man  be  seen  to  talk  with  a  woman 
within  the  term  of  three  years,  he  shall  endure  such  public  shame 
as  the  rest  of  the  court  can  possibly  devise.'  130 

This  article,  my  liege,  yourself  must  break; 

For  well  you  know  here  comes  in  embassy 
The  French  king's  daughter  with  yourself  to  speak — 

A  maid  of  grace  and  complete  majesty — 
About  surrender  up  of  Aquitaine 

To  her  decrepit,  sick,  and  bedrid  father: 
Therefore  this  article  is  made  in  vain, 

Or  vainly  comes  the  admired  princess  hither. 

King.  What  say  you,  lords  ?  why,  this  was  quite  forgot. 

Biron.  So  study  evermore  is  overshot.  uo 

While  it  doth  study  to  have  what  it  would, 
It  doth  forget  to  do  the  thing  it  should ; 
And  when  it  hath  the  thing  it  hunteth  most, 
'Tis  won  as  towns  with  fire,  so  won,  so  lost. 


40  LOVERS  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

King.  We  must  offeree  dispense  with  this  decree; 
She  must  lie  here  on  mere  necessity. 

Biron.  Necessity  will  make  us  all  forsworn 

Three  thousand  times  within  this  three  years'  space; 
For  every  man  with  his  affects  is  born, 

Not  by  might  master'd,  but  by  special  grace.  150 

If  I  break  faith,  this  word  shall  speak  for  me: 
I  am  forsworn  on  mere  necessity. — 
So  to  the  laws  at  large  I  write  my  name ;  [Subscribes. 

And  he  that  breaks  them  in  the  least  degree 
Stands  in  attainder  of  eternal  shame. 

Suggestions  are  to  others  as  to  me ; 
But  I  believe,  although  I  seem  so  loath, 
I  am  the  last  that  will  last  keep  his  oath. 
But  is  there  no  quick  recreation  granted  ? 

King.  Ay,  that  there  is.     Our  court,  you  know,  is  haunted 

With  a  refined  traveller  of  Spain  ;  161 

A  man  in  all  the  world's  new  fashion  planted, 

That  hath  a  mint  of  phrases  in  his  brain; 
One  whom  the  music  of  his  own  vain  tongue 

Doth  ravish  like  enchanting  harmony  ; 
A  man  of  complements,  whom  right  and  wrong 

Have  chose  as  umpire  of  their  mutiny. 
This  child  of  fancy,  that  Armado  hight, 

For  interim  to  our  studies  shall  relate 
In  high-born  words  the  worth  of  many  a  knight  17* 

From  tawny  Spain  lost  in  the  world's  debate. 
How  you  delight,  my  lords,  I  know  not,  I, 
But,  I  protest,  I  love  to  hear  him  lie, 
And  I  will  use  him  for  my  minstrelsy. 

Biron.  Armado  is  a  most  illustrious  wight, 
A  man  of  fire-new  words,  fashion's  own  knight. 

Longaville.  Costard  the  swain  and  he  shall  be  our  sport ; 
And  so  to  study,  three  years  is  but  short. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  J.  41 

Enter  DULL  with  a  letter,  and  COSTARD. 

Dull.   Which  is  the  duke's  own  person  ? 

Biron.  This,  fellow;  what  wouldst  ?  180 

Dull.  I  myself  reprehend  his  own  person,  for  I  im  his 
grace's  tharborough;  but  I  would  see  his  own  person  in  Mesh 
and  blood. 

Biron.  This  is  he. 

Dull.  Signior  Arme — Arme — commends  you.  There  's 
villany  abroad ;  this  letter  will  tell  you  more. 

Costard.   Sir,  the  contempts  thereof  are  as  touching  me. 

King.  A  letter  from  the  magnificent  Armado. 

Biron.  How  low  soever  the  matter,  I  hope  in  God  for  high 
words.  19° 

-Loiigaville.  A  high  hope  for  a  low  having;  God  grant  us 
patience  ! 

Biron.  To  hear?  or  forbear  laughing? 

Longaville.  To  hear  meekly,  sir,  and  to  laugh  moderately  : 
or  to  forbear  both. 

Biron.  Well,  sir,  be  it  as  the  style  shall  give  us  cause  to 
climb  in  the  merriness. 

Costard.  The  matter  is  to  me,  sir,  as  concerning  Jaquenetta. 
The  manner  of  it  is,  I  was  taken  with  the  manner. 

Biron.   In  what  manner?  200 

Costard.  In  manner  and  form  following,  sir;  all  those 
three  :  I  was  seen  with  her  in  the  manor-house,  sitting  with 
her  upon  the'  form,  and  taken  following  her  into  the  park; 
which,  put  together,  is  in  manner  and  form  following.  Now, 
sir,  for  the  manner, — it  is  the  manner  of  a  man  to  speak  to  a 
woman  ;  for  the  form, — in  some  form. 

Biron.  For  the  following,  sir  ? 

Costard.  As  it  shall  follow  in  my  correction  ;  and  God  de- 
fend the  right ! 

King.   Will  you  hear  this  letter  with  attention  ?  no 

Biron.   As  we  would  hear  an  oracle. 


42  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Costard.  Such  is  the  simplicity  of  man  to  hearken  after 
the  flesh. 

King.  [Reads]  '  Great  deputy,  the  welkin's  vicegerent  and 
sole  dominate r  of  Navarre,  my  soul's  earth's  god,  and  body's 
fostering  patron. ' 

Costard.  Not  a  word  of  Costard  yet. 

King.  [Reads]  '  So  it  is,' — 

Costard.  It  may  be  so ;  but  if  he  say  it  is  so,  he  is,  in  tell- 
ing true,  but  so.  220 

King.  Peace  ! 

Costard.  Be  to  me,  and  every  man  that  dares  not  fight ! 

King.   No  words! 

Costard.  Of  other  men's  secrets,  I  beseech  you. 

King.  [Reads]  '  So  it  is,  besieged  with  sable-coloured  melan- 
choly, I  did  commend  the  black-oppressing  humour  to  the  most 
wholesome  physic  of  thy  health-giving  air,  and,  as  I  am  a  gen- 
tleman, betook  myself  to  walk,  The  time  when  ?  About  the 
sixth  hour ;  when  beasts  most  graze,  birds  best  peck,  and  men 
sit  down  to  that  nourishment  which  is  called  supper :  so  much 
for  the  time  when.  Now  for  the  ground  which;  which,  I  mean,  \ 
I  walked  upon:  it  is  ycleped  thy  park.  Then  for  the  place 
where ;  where,  I  mean,  I  did  encounter  that  obscene  and  most 
preposterous  event,  that  draweth  from  my  snow-white  pen  the 
ebon-coloured  ink,  which  here  thou  viewest,  beholdest,  surveyest, 
or  seest :  but  to  the  place  where;  it  standeth  north-north-east 
and  by  east  from  the  west  corner  of  thy  curious-knotted  garden  : 
there  did  I  see  that  low-spirited  swain,  that  base  minnow  of  thy 
mirth,' — 

Costard.   Me.  240 

King.  [Reads]  '  that  unlettered  small-knowing  soul,'— 

Costard.  Me. 

King.  [Reads]  '  that  shallow  vassal,' — 

Costard:  Still  me. 

King.  [Reads]  '  which,  as  I  remember,  hight  Costard]— 

Costard.  O,  me  ! 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I.  43 

King.  [Reads]  '  sorted  and  consorted,  contrary  to  thy  estab- 
lished proclaimed  edict  and  continent  canon,  with — with — O, 
with — but  with  this  I  passion  to  say  wherewith] — 

Costard.  With  a  wench.  250 

King.  [Reads]  '•with  a  child  of  our  grandmother  Eve,  a  fe- 
male;  or,  for  thy  more  sweet  understanding,  a  woman.  Him  I, 
as  my  ever-esteemed  duty  pricks  me  on,  have  sent  to  thee,  to  re- 
ceive the  meed  of  punishment,  by  thy  sweet  grace's  officer,  An- 
thony Dull,  a  man  of  good  repute,  carriage,  bearing,  and  esti- 
mation.' 

Dull.  Me,  an  't  shall  please  you  ;  I  am  Anthony  Dull. 

King.  [Reads]  l  For  Jaquenetta, — so  is  the  weaker  vessel 
called  which  I  apprehended  with  the  aforesaid  swain, — /  keep 
her  as  a  vessel  of  thy  law's  fury,  and  shall,  at  the  least  of  thy 
sweet  notice,  bring  her  to  trial.  Thine,  in  all  compliments  of  de- 
voted and  heart-burning  heat  of  duty,  262 

'  DON  ADRIANO  DE  ARMADO.' 

Biron.  This  is  not  so  well  as  I  looked  for,  but  the  best 
that  ever  I  heard. 

King.  Ay,  the  best  for  the  worst. — But,  sirrah,  what  say 
you  to  this? 

Costard.   Sir,  I  confess  the  wench. 

King.   Did  you  hear  the  proclamation  ? 

Costard.  I  do  confess  much  of  the  hearing  it,  but  little  of 
the  marking  of  it.  270 

King.  It  was  proclaimed  a  year's  imprisonment,  to  be 
taken  with  a  wench. 

Costard.  I  was  taken  with  none,  sir ;  I  was  taken  with  a 
damosel. 

King.  Well,  it  was  proclaimed  damosel. 

Costard.  This  was  no  damosel  neither,  sir ;  she  was  a  virgin. 

King.  It  is  so  varied  too  ;  for  it  was  proclaimed  virgin. 

Costard.  If  it  were,  I  deny  her  virginity  •  I  was  taken  with 
a  maid. 

King.  This  maid  will  not  serve  your  turn,  sir.  280 


44  LOVERS  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Costard.  This  maid  will  serve  my  turn,  sir. 

King.  Sir,  I  will  pronounce  your  sentence :  you  shall  fast 
a  week  with  bran  and  water. 

Costard.  I  had  rather  pray  a  month  with  mutton  and  por- 
ridge. 

King.  And  Don  Armaclo  shall  be  your  keeper. — 
My  Lord  Biron,  see  him  deh'ver'd  o'er; — 
And  go  we,  lords,  to  put  in  practice  that 

Which  each  to  other  hath  so  strongly  sworn. 

\Exeunt  King,  Longaville,  and  Dumain. 

Biron.  I  '11  lay  my  head  to  any  good  man's  hat,  290 

These  oaths  and  laws  will  prove  an  idle  scorn. — 
Sirrah,  come  on. 

Costard.  I  suffer  for  the  truth,  sir;  for  true  it  is,  I  was 
taken  with  Jaquenetta,  and  Jaquenetta  is  a  true  girl ;  and 
therefore  welcome  the  sour  cup  of  prosperity !  Affliction 
may  one  day  smile  again ;  and  till  then,  sit  thee  down,  sor- 
row !  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     Another  Part  of  the  Park. 
Enter  ARMADO  and  MOTH. 

Armado.  Boy,  what  sign  is  it  when  a  man  of  great  spirit 
grows  melancholy? 

Moth.  A  great  sign,  sir,  that  he  will  look  sad. 

Armado.  Why,  sadness  is  one  and  the  selfsame  thing,  dear 
imp. 

Moth.  No,  no;  O  Lord,  sir,  no  ! 

Armado.  How  canst  thou  part  sadness  and  melancholy, 
my  tender  juvenal  ? 

Moth.  By  a  familiar  demonstration  of  the  working,  my 
tough  senior.  10 

Armado.  Why  tough  senior?  why  tough  senior? 

Moth.  Why  tender  juvenal  ?  why  tender  juvenal  ? 

Armado.  I  spoke  it,  tender  juvenal,  as  a  congruent  epithe- 
ton  appertaining  to  thy  young  days,  which  we  may  nominate 
tender. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  II. 


45 


Moth.  And  I,  tough  senior,  as  an  appertinent  title  to  your 
old  time,  which  we  may  name  tough. 

Armado.   Pretty  and  apt. 

Moth.  How  mean  you,  sir  ?  I  pretty,  and  my  saying  apt  ? 
or  I  apt,  and  my  saying  pretty?  20 

Armado.  Thou  pretty,  because  little. 

Moth.  Little  pretty,  because  little.     Wherefore  apt  ? 

Armado.  And  therefore  apt,  because  quick. 

Moth.   Speak  you  this  in  my  praise,  master  ? 

Armado.  In  thy  condign  praise. 

Moth.  I  will  praise  an  eel  with  the  same  praise. 

Armado.  What,  that  an  eel  is  ingenious? 

Moth.  That  an  eel  is  quick. 

Armado.  I  do  say  thou  art  quick  in  answers  ;  thou  heatest 
my  blood.  3° 

Moth.  I  am  answered,  sir. 

Armado.  I  love  not  to  be  crossed. 

Moth.  \Aside\  He  speaks  the  mere  contrary;  crosses  love 
not  him. 

Armado.  I  have  promised  to  study  three  years  with  the  duke. 

Moth.  You  may  do  it  in  an  hour,  sir. 

Armado.   Impossible. 

Moth.   How  many  is  one  thrice  told  ? 

Armado.  I  am  ill  at  reckoning;  it  fitteth  the  spirit  of  a 
tapster.  40 

Moth.  You  are  a  gentleman  and  a  gamester,  sir. 

Armado.  I  confess  both;  they  are  both  the  varnish  of  a 
complete  man. 

Moth.  Then,  I  am  sure,  you  know  how  much  the  gross 
sum  of  deuce-ace  amounts  to. 

Armado.  It  doth  amount  to  one  more  than  two. 

Moth.  Which  the  base  vulgar  do  call  three. 

Armado.  True. 

Moth.  Why,  sir,  is  this  such  a  piece  of  study  ?  Now  here 
is  three  studied,  ere  you  '11  thrice  wink;  and  how  easy  it  is 


46  LOVE'S  LABOUR  :S  LOST. 

to  put  years  to  the  word  three,  and  study  three  years  in  two 
words,  the  dancing  horse  will  tell  you.  52 

Armado.  A  most  fine  figure  ! 

Moth.   \Aside\  To  prove  you  a  cipher. 

Armado.  I  will  hereupon  confess  I  am  in  love;  and  as  it 
is  base  for  a  soldier  to  love,  so  am  I  in  love  with  a  base 
wench.  If  drawing  my  sword  against  the  humour  of  affec- 
tion would  deliver  me  from  the  reprobate  thought  of  it,  I 
would  take  desire  prisoner,  and  ransom  him  to  any  French 
courtier  for  a  new-devised  .courtesy.  I  think  scorn  to  sigh  ; 
methinks  I  should  outswear  Cupid.  Comfort  me,  boy.  What, 
great  men  have  been  in  love  ?  62 

Moth.   Hercules,  master. 

Armado.  Most  sweet  Hercules ! — More  authority,  dear 
boy,  name  more;  and,  sweet  my  child,  let  them  be  men  of 
good  repute  and  carriage.  -  vs 

Moth.  Samson,  master :  he  was  a  man  of  good  carriage, 
great  carriage,  for  he  carried  the  town-gates  on  his  back  like 
a  porter  ;  and  he  was  in  love.  69 

Armado.  O  well-knit  Samson  !  strong-jointed  Samson  !  I 
do  excel  thee  in  my  rapier  as  much  as  thou  didst  me  in  car- 
rying gates.  I  am  in  love  too. — Who  was  Samson's  love,  my 
dear  Moth  ? 

Moth,  A  woman,  master. 

Armado.  Of  what  complexion  ? 

Moth.  Of  all  the  four,  or  the  three,  or  the  two,  or  one  of 
the  four. 

Armado.  Tell  me  precisely  of  what  complexion. 

Moth.  Of  the  sea-water  green,  sir. 

Armado.   Is  that  one  of  the  four  complexions?  80 

Moth.  As  I  have  read,  sir;  and  the  best  of  them  too. 

Armado.  Green  indeed  is  the  colour  of  lovers  ;  but  to  have 
a  love  of  that  colour,  methinks  Samson  had  small  reason  for 
it.  He  surely  affected  her  for  her  wit. 

Moth.  It  was  so,  sir ;  for  she  had  a  green  wit. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  II. 


47 


Armado.   My  love  is  most  immaculate  white  and  red. 
Matfi.  Most  maculate  thoughts,  master,  are  masked  under 
such  coloiTrs^__ 

Armado.   Define,  define,  well-educated  infant. 
Moth.  My  father's  wit  and  my  mother's  tongue,  assist  me! 
Armado.  Sweet  invocation  of  a  child  ;  most  pretty  and 
pathetical !  92 

Moth.   If  she  be  made  of  white  and  red, 
Her  faults  will  ne'er  be  known, 
For  blushing  cheeks  by  faults  are  bred 

And  fears  by  pale  white  shown; 
Then  if  she  fear,  or  be  to  blame, 

By  this  you  shall  not  know, 
For  still  her  cheeks  possess  the  same 

Which  native  she  doth  owe.  •   ^  100 

A  dangerous  rhyme,  master,  against  the  reason  of  white  and 
red. 

Armado.   Is  there  not  a  ballad,  boy,  of  the  King  and  the 
Beggar  ?        u 

Moth.  The  world  was  very  guilty  of  such  a  ballad  some 

three  ages  since,  but  I  think  now  't  is  not  to  be  found;  or, 

if  it  were,  it  would  neither  serve  for  the  writing  nor  the  tune. 

Armado.  I  will  have  that  subject  newly  writ  o'er,  that  I 

may  example  my  digression  by  some  mighty  precedent.    Boy, 

I  do  love  that  country  girl  that  I  took  in  the  park  with  the 

rational  hind  Costard  ;  she  deserves  well.  m 

Moth.  \Aside\  To  be  whipped, — and  yet  a  better  love  than 

my  master. 

Armado.   Sing,  boy  ;  my  spirit  grows  heavy  in  love. 
Moth.  And  that 's  great  marvel,  loving  a  light  wench. 
Armado.  I  say,  sing. 
Moth.  Forbear  till  this  company  be  past. 

Enter  DULL,  COSTARD,  and  JAQUENETTA. 
Dull.  Sir,  the  duke's  pleasure  is,  that  you  keep  Costard 


48  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

safe;  and  you  must  let  him  take  no  delight  nor  no  penance, 
but  he  must  fast  three  days  a  week.  For  this  damsel,  I  must 
keep  her  at  the  park ;  she  is  allowed  for  the  day-woman. 
Fare  you  well.  122 

Armado.  I  do  betray  myself  with  blushing. — Maid ! 

Jaquenetta.  Man  ! 

Armado.  I  will  visit  thee  at  the  lodge. 

Jaquenetta.  That 's  hereby.     

Armado.  I  know  where  it  is  situate.    i\  ^  „-, 

Jaquenetta.  Lord,  how  wise  you  are  ! 

Armado.  I  will  tell  thee  wonders. 

Jaquenetta.  With  that  face  ?  130 

Armado.  I  love  thee. 

Jaquenetta.   So  I  heard  you  say. 

Armado.   And  so,  farewell. 

Jaquenetta.  Fair  weather  after  you  ! 

Dull.  Come,  Jaquenetta,  away ! 

\Exeunt  Dull  and  Jaquenetta. 

Armado.  Villain,  thou  shalt  fast  for  thy  offences  ere  thou 
be  pardoned. 

Costard.  Well,  sir,  I  hope,  when  I  do  it,  I  shall  do  it  on  a 
full  stomach. 

Armado.  Thou  shalt  be  heavily  punished.  MO 

Costard.  I  am  more  bound  to  you  than  your  fellows,  for 
they  are  but  lightly  rewarded. 

Armado.  Take  away  this  villain;  shut  him  up. 

Moth.  Come,  you  transgressing  slave  ;  away ! 

Costard.  Let  me  not  be  pent  up,  sir ;    I  will  fast,  being 
loose. 

Moth.  No,  sir;  that  were  fast  and  loose:  thou  shalt  to 
prison. 

Costard.  Well,  if  ever  I  do  see  the  merry  days  of  desola- 
tion that  I  have  seen,  some  shall  see —  150 

Moth.  What  shall  some  see? 

Costard.  Nay,  nothing,  Master  Moth,  but  what  they  look 


ACT  L    SCENE  II. 


49 


upon.  It  is  not  for  prisoners  to  be  too  silent  in  their  words  r 
and  therefore  I  will  say  nothing.  I  thank  God  I  have 
as  little  patience  as  another  man,  and  therefore  I  can  be 
quiet.  [Exeunt  Motk  and  Costard. 

Armada.  I  do  affect  the  very  ground,  which  is  base,  where 
her  shoe,  which  is  baser,  guided  by  her  foot,  which  is  basest, 
doth  tread.  I  shall  be  forsworn,  which  is  a  great  argument 
of  falsehood,  if  I  love.  And  how  can  that  be  true  love  which 
is  falsely  attempted?  Love  is  a  familiar;  Love  is  a  devil: 
there  is  no  evil  angel  but  Love.  Yet  was  Samson  so  tempt- 
ed, and  he  had  an  excellent  strength  ;  yet  was  Solomon  so 
seduced,  and  he  had  a  very  good  wit.  Cupid's  butt-shaft  is 
too  hard  for  Hercules'  club,  and  therefore  too  much  odds 
for  a  Spaniard's  rapier.  The  first  and  second  cause  will 
not  serve  my  turn ;  the  passado  he  respects  not,  the  duello 
he  regards  not :  his  disgrace  is  to  be  called  boy,  but  his  glory 
is  to  subdue  men.  Adieu, valour !  rust,  rapier!  be  still,  drum  ! 
for  your  manager  is  in  love  ;  yea,  he  loveth.  Assist  me,  some 
extemporal  god  of  rhyme,  for  I  am  sure  I  shall  turn  sonnet. 
Devise,  wit!  write,  pen!  for  I  am  for  whole  volumes  in  folio. 

[Exit. 


D 


ACT  II. 
SCE"NE  I.     The  Park.     A  Pavilion  and  Tents  at  a  Distance. 

Enter  ths  PRINCESS  OF  FRANCE,  ROSALINE,  MARIA,  KATHE- 
RINE,  BOYET,  Lords,  and  other  Attendants. 

Boyet.  Now,  madam,  summon  up  your  dearest  spirits. 
Consider  who  the  king  your  father  sends, 
To  whom  he  sends,  and  what 's  his  embassy: 
Yourself,  held  precious  in  the  world's  esteem, 
To  parley  with  the  sole  inheritor 
Of  all  perfections  that  a  man  may  owe, 
Matchless  Navarre ;  the  plea  of  no  less  weight 
Than  Aquitaine,  a  dowry  for  a  queen. 
Be  now  as  prodigal  of  all  dear  grace 

As  Nature  was  in  making  graces  dear  10 

When  she  did  starve  the  general  world  beside 
And  prodigally  gave  them  all  to  you. 

Princess.  Good  Lord  Boyet,  my  beauty,  though  but  mean, 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I.  51 

Needs  not  the  painted  flourish  of  your  praise; 

Beauty  is  bought  by  judgment  of  the  eye, 

Not  utter'd  by  base  sale  of  chapmen's  tongues. 

I  am  less  proud  to  hear  you  tell  my  worth 

Than  you  much  willing  to  be  counted  wise 

In  spending  your  wit  in  the  praise  of  mine. 

But  now  to  task  the  tasker:  good  Boyet,  20 

You  are  not  ignorant,  all-telling  fame 

Doth  noise  abroad,  Navarre  hath  made  a  vow, 

Till  painful  study  shall  outwear  three  years, 

No  woman  may  approach  his  silent  court. 

Therefore  to  's  seemeth  it  a  needful  course, 

Before  we  enter  his  forbidden  gates, 

To  know  his  pleasure ;  and  in  that  behalf, 

Bold  Qf  your  worthiness,  we  single  you 

As  our  best-moving  fair  solicitor. 

Tell  him,  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  France,  30 

On  serious  business,  craving  quick  dispatch, 

Importunes  personal  conference  with  his  grace. 

Haste,  signify  so  much;  while  we  attend, 

Like  humble-visag'd  suitors,  his  high  will. 

Boyet.  Proud  of  employment,  willingly  I  go. 

Princess.  All  pride  is  willing  pride,  and  yours  is  so. — 

\_Exit  Boyet. 

Who  are  the  votaries,  my  loving  lords, 
That  are  vow-fellows  with  this  virtuous  duke? 

i  Lord.  Lord  Longaville  is  one. 

Princess.  Know  you  the  man  ? 

Maria.  I  know  him,  madam  ;  at  a  marriage-feast,  4o 

Between  Lord  Perigort  and  the  beauteous  heir 
Of  Jaques  Falconbridge,  solemnized 
In  Normandy,  saw  I  this  Longaville. 
A  man  of  sovereign  parts  he  is  esteem'd ; 
Well  fitted  in  the  arts,  glorious  in  arms: 
Nothing  becomes  him  ill  that  he  would  well. 


52  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

The  only  soil  of  his  fair  virtue's  gloss — 

If  virtue's  gloss  will  stain  with  any  soil — 

Is  a  sharp  wit  inatch'd  with  too  blunt  a  will ; 

Whose  edge  hath  power  to  cut,  whose  will  still  wills  sc 

It  should  none  spare  that  come  within  his  power. 

Princess.  Some  merry  mocking  lord,  belike:  is 't  so? 

Maria.  They  say  so  most  that  most  his  humours  know. 

Princess.   Such  short-liv'd  wits  do  wither  as  they  grow. 
Who  are  the  rest? 

Katherine.  The  young  Dumain,  a  well-accomplish'd  youth, 
Of  all  that  virtue  love  for  virtue  lov'd  ; 
Most  power  to  do  most  harm,  least  knowing  ill, 
For  he  hath  wit  to  make  an  ill  shape  good, 
And  shape  to  win  grace  though  he  had  no  wit.  60 

I  saw  him  at  the  Duke  Alengon's  once; 
And  much  too  little  of  that  good  I  saw 
Is  my  report  jo_  his  great  worthiness. 

Rosaline.  Another  of  these  students  at  that  time 
Was  there  with  him,  if  I  have  heard  a  truth. 
Biron  they  call  him;  but  a  merrier  man, 
Within  the  limit  of  becoming  mirth, 
I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal. 
His  eye  begets  occasion  for  his  wit; 

For  every  object  that  the  one  doth  catch  7o 

The  other  turns  to  a  mirth-moving  jest, 
Which  his  fair  tongue,  conceit's  expositor, 
Delivers  in  such  apt  and  gracious  words 
That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales 
And  younger  hearings  are  quite  ravished, 
So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse. 

Princess.  God  bless  my  ladies!  are  they  all  in  love, 
That  every  one  her  own  hath  garnished 
With  such  bedecking  ornaments  of  praise? 

i  Lord.  Here  comes  Boyet. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 


53 


Re-enter  BOYET. 

Princess.  Now,  what  admittance,  lord?  80 

Boyet.  Navarre  had  notice  of  your  fair  approach, 

And  he  and  his  qornpetitors  in  oath 

Were  all  address'd  to  meet  you,  gentle  lady, 

Before  I  came.     Marry,  thus  much  I  have  learnt: 

He  rather  means  to  lodge  you  in  the  field, 

Like  one  that  comes  here  to  besiege  his  court, 

Than  seek  a  dispensation  for  his  oath, 

To  let  you  enter  his  unpeopled  house. — 

Here  comes  Navarre. 

Enter  KING,  LONGAVILLE,  DUMAIN,  BIRON,  and  Attendants. 

King.  Fair  princess,  welcome  to  the  court  of  Navarre.     90 

Princess.  Fair  I  give  you  back  again,  and  welcome  I  have 
not  yet ;  the  roof  of  this  court  is  too  high  to  be  yours,  and 
welcome  to  the  wide  fields  too  base  to  be  mine. 

King.  You  shall  be  welcome,  madam,  to  my  court. 

Princess.  I  will  be  welcome,  then ;  conduct  me  thither. 

King.   Hear  me,  dear  lady;  I  have  sworn  an  oath. 

Princess.  Our  Lady  help  my  lord!  he'll  be  forsworn. 

King.  Not  for  the  world,  fair  madam,  by  my  will. 

Princess.   Why,  will  shall  break  it;  will  and  nothing  else. 

King.  Your  ladyship  is  ignorant  what  it  is.  too 

Princess.  \Vere  my  lord  so,  his  ignorance  were  wise, 
Where" now  his  knowledge  must  prove  ignorance. 
I  hear  your  grace  hath  sworn  out  house-keeping; 
'T  is  deadly  sin  to  keep  that  oath,  my  lord, 
And  sin  to  break  it. 
But  pardon  me,  I  am  too  sudden-bold; 
To  teach  a  teacher  ill  beseemeth  me. 
Vouchsafe  to  read  the  purpose  of  my  coming, 
And  suddenly  resolve  me  in  my  suit. 

King.   Madam,  I  will,  if  suddenly  I  may.  no 


54 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST 


Princess.  You  will  the  sooner  that  I  were  away, 
For  you  '11  prove  perjur'd  if  you  make  me  stay. 

Biron.  Did  not  I  dance  with  you  in  Brabant  once? 

Rosaline.  Did  not  I  dance  with  you  in  Brabant  once? 

Biron.   I  know  you  did. 

Rosaline.   How  needless  was  it  then  to  ask  the  question ! 

Biron.  You  must  not  be  so  quick. 

Rosaline.  'T  is  long  of  you  that  spur  me  with  such  ques- 
tions. 

Biron.  Your  wit 's  too  hot,  it  speeds  too  fast,  't  will  tire. 

Rosaline.  Not  till  it  leave  the  rider  in  the  mire.  120 

Biron.  What  time  o'  day? 

Rosaline.  The  hour  that  fools  should  ask. 

Biron.  Now  fair  befall  your  mask! 

Rosaline.  Fair  fall  the  face  it  covers! 

Biron.  And  send  you  many  lovers! 

Rosaline.  Amen,  so  you  be  none. 

Biron.   Nay,  then  will  I  be  gone. 

King.  Madam,  your  father  here  doth  intimate 
The  payment  of  a  hundred  thousand  crowns; 
Being  but  the  one  half  of  an  entire  sum 
Disbursed  by  my  father  in  his  wars. 
But  say  that  he  or  we,  as  neither  have, 
Receiv'd  that  sum,  yet  there  remains  unpaid 
A  hundred  thousand  more;  in  surety  of  the  which, 
One  part  of  Aquitaine  is  bouncl  to  us, 
Although  not  valued  -to  the  money's  worth. 
If  then  the  king  your  father  will  restore 
But  that  one  half  which  is  unsatisfied, 
We  will  give  up  our  right  in  Aquitaine, 
And  hold  fair  friendship  with  his  majesty. 
But  that,  it  seems,  he  little  purposeth, 
For  here  h'e  doth  demand  to  have  repaid 
A  hundred  thousand  crowns;  and  not  demands, 
On  payment  of  a  hundred  thousand  crowns, 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 


55 


To  have  his  title  live  in  Aquitaine; 

Which  we  much  rather  had  depart  withal, 

And  have  the  money  by  our  father  lent, 

Than  Aquitaine  so  gelded  as  it  is. 

Dear  princess,  were  not  his  requests  so  far 

From  reason's  yielding,  your  fair  self  should  make  150 

A  yielding  'gainst  some  reason  in  my  breast, 

And  go  well  satisfied  to  France  again. 

Princess.  You  do  the  king  my  father  too  much  wrong, 
And  wrong  the  reputation  of  your  name, 
In  so  unseeming  to  confess  receipt 
Of  that  which  hath  so  faithfully  been  paid. 

King.   I  do  protest  I  never  heard  of  it ; 
And  if  you  prove  it,  I  '11  repay  it  back 
Or  yield  up  Aquitaine. 

Princess.  We  arrest  your  word. — 

Boyet,  you  can  produce  acquittances  160 

For  such  a  sum  from  special  officers 
Of  Charles  his  father. 

King.  Satisfy  me  so. 

Boyet.  So  please  your  grace,  the  packet  is  not  come 
Where  that  and  other  specialties  are  bound; 
To-morrow  you  shall  have  a  sight  of  them. 

King.   It  shall  suffice^  me ;  at  which  interview 
All  liberal  reason  I  will  yield  unto. 
Meantime  receive  such  welcome  at  my  hand. 
As  honour  without  breach  of  honour  may 
Make  tender  of  to  thy  true  worthiness.  170 

'   You  may  not  come,  fair  princess,  in  my  gates; 
But  here  without  you  shall  be  so  receiv'd 
As  you  shall  deem  yourself  lodg'd  in  my  heart, 
Though  so  denied  fair  harbour  in  my  house. 
Your  own  good  thoughts  excuse  me,  and  farewell; 
To-morrow  shall  \we  visit  you  again. 

Princess.   Sweet  health  and  fair  desires  consort  your  grace ! 


56  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

King,  Thy  own  wish  wish  I  thee  in  every  place!        {Exit. 

Biron.  Lady,  I  will  commend  you  to  mine  own  heart. 

Rosaline.  Pray  you,  do  my  commendations;  I  would  be 
glad  to  see  it.  '8> 

Biron.   I  would  you  heard  it  groan. 

Rosaline.  Is  the  fool  sick? 

Biron.  Sick  at  the  heart. 

Rosaline.  Alack,  let  it  blood. 

-5/mfcxWould  that  do  it  good? 

Rosaline. \My  physic  says  ay. 

Biron.  Will  you  prick  't  with  your  eye? 

Rosaline.  No  point,  with  my  knife. 

Biron.  Now,  God  save  thy  life!    .  190 

Rosaline.  And  yours  from  long  living! 

Biron.  I  cannot  stay  thanksgiving.  [Retiring. 

Dumain.   Sir,  I  pray  you,  a  word:  what  lady  is  that  same? 

Boyet.  The  heir  of  Alengon,  Katherine  her  name. 

Dumain.  A  gallant  lady.     Monsieur,  fare  you  well.  [Exit. 

Longaville.  \  beseech  you  a  word:  what  is  she  in  the  \vhitf? 

Boyet.  A  woman  sometimes,  an  you  saw  her  in  the  light. 

Longaville.  Perchance  light  in  the  light.    I  desire  her  name. 

Boyet.  She  hath  but  one  for  herself;  to  desire  that  were 
a  shame. 

Longaville.  Pray  you,  sir,  whose  daughter?  200 

Boyet.   Her  mother's,  I  have  heard. 

Longaville.  God's  blessing  on  your  beard! 

Boyet.  Good  sir,  be  not  offended. 
She  is  an  heir  of  Falconbridge. 

Longaville.  Nay,  my  choler  is  ended. 
She  is  a  most  sweet  lady. 

Boyet.  Not  unlike,  sir,  that  may  be:  {Exit  Longaville. 

Biron.  What 's  her  name  in  the  cap? 

Boyet.  Rosaline,  by  good  hap. 

Biron.  Is  she  wedded  or  no?  »»o 

Boyet.  To  her  will,  sir,  or  so. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 


57 


Biron.  You  are  welcome,  sir ;  adieu. 

Boyet.  Farewell  to  me,  sir,  and  welcome  to  you. 

\Exit  Biron. 

Maria.  That  last  is  Biron,  the  merry  mad-cap  lord ; 
Not  a  word  with  him  but  a  jest. 

Boyet.  And  every  jest  but  a  word. 

Princess.  It  was  well  done  of  you  to  take  him  at  his  word. 

B&y£$.  I  was  as  willing  to  grapple  as  he  was  to  board. 

Maria.  Two  hot  sheeps,  marry. 

Boyet.  And  wherefore  not  ships? 

No  sheep,  sweet  lamb,  unless  we  feed  on  your  lips. 

Maria.  You  sheep,  and  I  pasture;  shall  that  finish  the 
jest?  220 

Boyet.  So  you  grant  pasture  for  me.     {Offering  to  kiss  her. 

Maria.  Not  so,  gentle  beast ; 

My  lips  are  no_cpm.mon,  though  several  they  be. 

Boyet.   Belonging  to  whom? 

Maria.  To  my  fortunes  and  me. 

Princess.  Good  wits  will  be  jangling;  but,  gentles,  agree. 
This  civil  war  of  wits  were  much  better  us'd 
On  Navarre  and  his  book-men,  for  here  't  is  abus'd. 

Boyet.   If  my  observation,  which  very  seldom  lies, 
By  the  heart's  still  rhetoric  disclosed  with  eyes, 
Deceive  me  not  now,  Navarre  is  infected. 

Princess.  With  what?  230 

Boyet.  With  that  which  we  lovers  entitle  affected. 

Princess.  Your  reason? 

Boyet.  Why,  all  his  behaviours  did  make  their  retire 
To  the  court  of  his  eye,  peeping  thorough  desire; 
His  heart,  like  an  agate,  with  your  print  impress'd, 
Proud  with  his  form,  in  his  eye  pride  express'd; 
His  tongue,  all  impatient  to  speak  and  not  see, 
Did  stumble  with  haste  in  his  eyesight  to  be; 
All  senses  to  that  sense  did  make  their  repair, 
To  feel  only  looking  on  fairest  of  fair.  240 


58  LOWS  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Methought  all  his  senses  were  lock'd  in  his  eye, 
As  jewels  in  crystal  for  some  prince  to  buy; 
Who,  tendering  their  own  worth  from  where  they  were  glass'd, 
,  /Did  point  you  to  buy  them,  along  as  you  pass'd. 
His  face's  own  margent  did  quote  such  amazes 
That  all  eyes  saw  his  eyes  enchanted  with  gazes. 
I  '11  give  you  Aquitaine  and  all  that  is  his, 
An  you  give  him  for  my  sake  but  one  loving  kiss. 
Princess.  Come  to  our  pavilion  ;  Boyet  is  dispos'd. 
Boyet.  But  to  speak  that  in  words  which  his  eye  hath  dis- 

Clos'd.  250 

I  only  have  made  a  mouth  of  his  eye, 

By  adding  a  tongue  which  I  know  will  not  lie. 

Rosaline.  Thou  art  an  old  love-monger  and  speakest  skil- 
fully. 

Maria.  He  is  Cupid's  grandfather  and  learns  news  of  him. 
Rosaline.  Then  was  Venus  like  her  mother,  for  her  father 

is  but  grim. 

Boyet.  Do  you  hear,  my  mad  wenches? 
Maria.  No. 

Boyet.  What  then,  do  you  see  ? 

Rosaline.  Ay,  our  way  to  be  gone. 

Boyet.  You  are  too  hard  for  me. 

\Exeunt. 


BIRON    AND   COSTARD   (Hi.   I.   165). 


ACT  III. 

SCENE  I.     The  Park. 
Enter  ARMADO  and  MOTH. 

Armado.  Warble,  child ;  make  passionate  my  sense  of 
hearing. 

MOTH  sings.  —  Concolinel.  * 

Armado.  Sweet  air! — Go,  tenderness  of  years;  take  this 
key,  give  enlargement  to  the  swain,  bring  him  festinately 
hither.  I  must  employ  him  in  a  letter  to  my  love. 

Moth.  Master,  will  you  win  your  love  with  a  French 
brawl? 

Armado.   How  meanest  thou?  brawling  in  French? 

Moth.  No,  my  complete  master;  but  to  jig  off  a  tune  at 
the  tongue's  end,  canary  to  it  with  your  feet,  humour  it  with 
turning  up  your  eye,  sigh  a  note  and  sing  a  note,  sometime 


60  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

through  the  throat,  as  if  you  swallowed  love  with  singing 
love,  sometime  through  the  nose,  as  if  you  snuffed  up  love 
by  smelling  love;  with  your  hat  penthouse-like  o'er  the  shop 
of  your  eyes;  with  your  arms  crossed  on  your  thin-belly 
doublet  like  a  rabbit  on  a  spit,  or  your  hands  in  your  pock- 
et like  a  man  after  the  old  painting;  and  keep  not  too  long 
in  one  tune,  but  a  snip  and  away.  These  are  complements, 
these  are  humours;  these  betray  nice  wenches,  that  would 
be  betrayed  without  these,  and  make  them  men  of  note — do 
you  note  me? — that  most  are  affected  to  these.  21 

Armado.  How  hast  thou  purchased  this  experience? 

Math.   By  my  penny  of  observation. 

Armado.  But  O, — but  O, — 

Moth.  The  hobby-horse  is  forgot. 

Armado.  Callest  thou  my  love  hobby-horse? 

Moth.  No,  master;  the  hobby-horse  is  but  a  colt,  and  your 
love  perhaps  a  hackney.  But  have  you  forgot  your  love? 

Armado.  Almost  I  had. 

Moth.  Negligent  student!  learn  her  by  heart.  30 

Armado.  By  heart  and  in  heart,  boy. 

Moth.  And  out  of  heart,  master;  all  those  three  I  will 
prove. 

Armado.  What  wilt  thou  prove? 

Moth.  A  man,  if  I  live  ;  and  this,  by,  in,  and  without,  upon 
the  instant,  by  heart  you  love  her,  because  your  heart  can- 
not come  by  her:  in  heart  you  love  her,  because  your  heart 
is  in  love  with  her;  and  out  of  heart  you  love  her,  being  out 
of  heart  that  you  cannot  enjoy  her. 

Armado.  I  am  all  these  three.  40 

Moth.  And  three  times  as  much  more,  and  yet  nothing  at 
all. 

Armado.  Fetch  hither  the  swain ;  he  must  carry  me  a 
letter. 

Moth.  A  message  well  sympathized;  a  horse  to  be  am- 
bassador for  an  ass. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I.  6 1 

Armado.   Ha,  ha !  what  sayest  thou  ? 

Moth.  Marry,  sir,  you  must  send  the  ass  upon  the  horse, 
for  he  is  very  slow-gaited.     But  I  go. 

Armado.  The  way  is  but  short ;  away !  50 

Moth.  As  swift  as  lead,  sir. 

Armado.  Thy  meaning,  pretty  ingenious? 
Is  not  lead  a  metal  heavy,  dull,  and  slow? 

Moth.  Minime,  honest  master;  or  rather,  master,  no. 

Armado.   I  say  lead  is  slow. 

Moth.  You  are  too  swift,  sir,  to  say  so ; 

Is  that  lead  slow  which  is  fir'd  from  a  gun? 

Armado.  Sweet  smoke  of  rhetoric ! 
He  reputes  me  a  cannon;  and  the  bullet,  that 's  he. — 
I  shoot  thee  at  the  swain. 

Moth.  Thump  then,  and  I  flee.      \Exit. 

Armado.  A  most  acute  Juvenal;  voluble  and  free  of  grace! 
By  thy  favour,  sweet  \\elkin,  I  must  sigh  in  thy  face. —         61 
Most  rude  melancholy,  valour  gives  thee  place. — 
My  herald  is  return'd. 

Re-enter  MOTH  with  COSTARD. 
Moth.  A  wonder,  master!  here  's  a  costard  broken  in  a 

shin. 
Armado.  Seme- ^aigma,. some~«d<Jre :  come,  thy  1'envoy; 

begin.  •  • 


Costard.  No  egma,  no  riddle,  no  1'envoy;  no  salve  in 
them  all,  sir.  O,  sir,  plantain,  a  plain  plantain!  no  1'envoy, 
no  1'envoy;  no  salve,  sir,  but  a  plantain  ! 

Armado.  By  virtue,  thou  enforcest  laughter ;  thy  silly 
thought  my  spleen;  the  heaving  of  my  lungs  provokes  me 
to  ridiculous  smiling. — O,  pardon  me,  my  stars!  Doth  the 
inconsiderate  take  salve  for  1'envoy,  and  the  word  1'envoy 
for  a  salve?  73 

Moth.  Do  the  wise  think  them  other?  is  not  1'envoy  a 
salve? 


62  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Armarfb.  No,  page ;  it  is  an  epilogue  or  discourse,  to  make 

plain 

Some  obscure  precedence  that  hath  tofore  been  sain. 
I  will  example  it: 

""The  fox,  the  ape,  and  the  humble-bee, 

Were  still  at  odds,  being  but  three.  &> 

There  's  the  moral.     Now  the  1'envoy. 

Moth.  I  will  add  the  1'envoy.     Say  the  moral  again. 
Armado.  The  fox,  the  ape,  the  humble-bee, 

Were  still  at  odds,  being  but  three. 
Moth.        Until  the  goose  came  out  of  door, 

And  stay'd  the  odds  by  adding  four. 

Now  will  I  begin  your  moral,  and  do  you  follow  with  my 
1'envoy. 

The  fox,  the  ape,  and  the  humble-bee, 
Were  still  at  odds,  being  but  three.  oo 

Armado.  Until  the  goose  came  out  of  door, 

Staying  the  odds  by  adding  four. 

Moth.  A  good  1'envoy,  ending  in  the  goose;  would  you 
desire  more? 

Costard.  The  boy  hath  sold  him  a  bargain,  a  goose,  that 's 

flat- 
Sir,  your  pennyworth  is  good,  an  your  goose  be  fat. — 
To  sell  a  bargain  well  is  as  cunning  as  fast  and  loose. 
Let  me  see — a  fat  1'envoy;  ay,  that 's  a  fat  goose. 

Armado.  Come  hither,  come  hither.     How  did  this  argu- 
ment begin? 

Moth.  By  saying  that  a  costard  was  broken  in  a  shin.     100 
Then  call'd  you  for  the  1'envoy. 

Costard.  True,  and  I  for  a  plantain:  thus  came  your  ar- 
gument in ; 

Then  the  boy's  fat  1'envoy,  the  goose  that  you  bought, 
And  he  ended  the  market. 

Armado.  But  tell  me ;  how  was  there  a  costard  broken  in 
a  shin  ? 


ACT  III.    SCENE  /.  53 

Moth.  I  will  tell  you  sensibly. 

Costard.  Thou  hast  no  feeling  of  it,  Moth;  1  will  speak 
that  1'envoy. 

I  Costard,  running  out,  that  was  safely  within,  nc 

Fell  over  the  threshold,  and  broke  my  shin. 

Artnado.  We  will  talk  no  more  of  this  matter. 

Costard.  Till  there  be  more  matter  in  the  shin. 

Armado.  Marry,  Costard,  I  will  enfranchise  thee. 

Costard.  O,  marry  me  to  one  Frances  ?  I  smell  some  1'en- 
voy, some  goose,  in  this. 

Armado.  By  my  sweet  soul,  I  mean  setting  thee  at  liberty, 
enfreedoming  thy  person ;  thou  wert  immured,  restrained, 
captivated,  bound. 

Costard.  True,  true  ;  and  now  you  will  be  my  purgation 
&nd  let  me  loose.  121 

Armado.  I  give  thee  thy  liberty,  set  thee  from  durance; 
and,  in  lieu  thereof,  impose  on  thee  nothing  but  this:  bear 
this  significant  [giving  a  letter~\  to  the  country  maid  Jaquenet- 
ta.  There  is  remuneration;  for  the  best  ward  of  mine  hon- 
our is  rewarding  my  dependents. — Moth,  follow.  [Exit. 

Moth.  Like  the  sequel,  I. — Signior  Costard,  adieu. 

Costard.  My  sweet  ounce  of  man's  flesh !  my  incony  Jew 

[Exit  Moth. 

O'  my  troth,  most  sweet  jests  !  most  incony  vulgar  wit! 
When  it  comes  so  smoothly  off,  so  obscenely,  as  it  were,  so  fit. 
Armado  o'  th'  one  side, — O,  a  most  dainty  man  !  131 

To  see  him  walk  before  a  lady  and  to  bear  her  fan  ! 
To  see  him  kiss  his  hand!  and  how  most  sweetly  a'  will 

swear ! 

And  his  page  o'  t'  other  side,  that  handful  of  wit! 
Ah,  heavens,  it  is  a  most  pathetical  nit! — 
Now  will  I  look  to  his  remuneration.     Remuneration  !     O 
that  's  the  Latin  word  for  three  farthings  ;  three  farthings — 
remuaeration.  —  'What  's  the  price  of  this  inkle?'  —  'One 
penny.' — '  No,  I  '11  give  you  a  remuneration  ;'  why,  it  carries 


64  LOVE'S  LABOUK  'S  LOST: 

it.  —  Remuneration  !  why,  it  is  a  fairer  name  than  French 
crown.     I  will  never  buy  and  sell  out  of  this  word.  141 

Enter  BIRON. 

Biron.  O,  my  good  knave  Costard !  exceedingly  well  met. 

Costard,  Pray  you,  sir,  how  much  carnation  ribbon  may  a 
man  buy  for  a  remuneration  ? 

Biron.  What  is  a  remuneration  ? 

Costard.  Marry,  sir,  halfpenny  farthing. 

Biron.  Why,  then,  three-farthing  worth  of  silk. 

Costard.  I  thank  your  worship  ;  God  be  \vi'  you  ! 

Biron.   Stay,  slave  !     I  must  employ  thee  ; 
As  thou  wilt  win  my  favour,  good  my  knave,  ».«o 

Do  one  thing  for  me  that  I  shall  entreat. 

Costard.  When  would  you  have  it  done,  sir? 

Biron.  This  afternoon. 

Costard.  Well,  I  will  do  it,  sir ;  fare  you  well. 

Biron.  Thou  knowest  not  what  it  is. 

Costard.   I  shall  know,  sir,  when  T  have  done  il 

Biron.  Why,  villain,  thou  must  know  first. 

Costard.  I  will  come  to  your  worship  to-morrow  morning. 

Biron.  It  must  be  done  this  afternoon.  Hark,  slave,  it  is 
but  this :  160 

The  princess  comes  to  hunt  here  in  the  park, 
And  in  her  train  there  is  a  gentle  lady  ; 
When  tongues  speak  sweetly,  then  they  name  her  name, 
And  Rosaline  they  call  her  :  ask  for  her, 
And  to  her  white  hand  see  thou  do  commend 
This  sealed-up  counsel.     There  's  thy  guerdon  ;  go. 

\Giving  him  a  shilling. 

Costard.  Gardon.— O  sweet  garden  !  better  than  remuner- 
ation, a  'leven-pence  farthing  better  :  most  sweet  gardon  ! — I 
will  do  it,  sir,  in  print. — Gardon  !  Remuneration  !  \Exit. 

Biron.  And  I,  forsooth,  in  love  !  I  that  have  been  Jove's 
whip ;  i; 


ACT  ///.    SCENE  I.  65 

A  very  beadle  to  a  humorous  sigh; 
A  critic,  nay,  a  night-watch  constable  ; 
A  domineering  pedant  o'er  the  boy, 
Than  whom  no  mortal  so  magnificent! 
This  wimpled,  whining,  purblind,  wayward  boy  ; 
This  senior-junior,  giant-dwarf,  Dan  Cupid; 
Regent  of  love-rhymes,  lord  of  folded  arms, 
The  anointed  sovereign  of  sighs  and  groans, 
Liege  of  all  loiterers  and  malcontents,  i& 

Dread  prince  of  plackets,  king  of  codpieces, 
Sole  imperator  and  great  general 
Of  trotting  paritors, — O  my  little  heart! — 
And  I  to  be  a  corporal  of  his  field, 
And  wear  his  colours  like  a  tumbler's  hoop }    \ 
What,  I !  I  love  !  I  sue  !  I  seek  a  wife  ! 
A  woman,  that  is  like  a  German  clock, 
Still  a-repairing,  ever  out  of  frame, 
And  never  going  right,  being  a  watch, 

But  being  watch'd  that  it  may  still  go  right!  i<x> 

Nay,  to  be  perjur'd,  which  is  worst  of  all; 
And,  among  three,  to  love  the  worst  of  all; 
A  wightly  wanton  with  a  velvet  brow, 
With  two  pitch-balls  stuck  in  her  face  for  eyes  ; 
Ay,  and,  by  heaven,  one  that  will  do  the  deed, 
Though  Argus  were  her  eunuch  and  her  guard : 
And  I  to  sigh  for  her !  to  watch  for  her ! 
To  pray  for  her  !     Go  to  ;  it  is  a  plague 
That  Cupid  will  impose  for  my  neglect 

Of  his  almighty  dreadful  little  might.  2« 

Well,  I  will  love,  write,  sigh,  pray,  sue,  and  groan  ; 
Some  men  must  love  my  lady  and  some  Joan.  \Exit. 

E 


ARM  A  DO    AND    MOTH. 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE  I.     The  Park. 
Emer  the  PRINCESS,  and  her  train,  a  Forester,  BOYET,  ROSA 

LINE,  MARIA,  and  KATHERINE. 

Princess.  Was  that  the  king,  that  spurr'd  his  horse  so  hard 
Against  the  steep  uprising  of  the  hill? 

Boyet.  I  know  not ;  but  I  think  it  was  not  he. 
Princess.  Whoe'er  he  was,  he  show'd  a  mounting  mind. 
Well,  lords,  to-day  we  shall  have  our  dispatch; 
On  Saturday  we  will  return  to  France.— 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I.  67 

Then,  forester,  my  friend,  where  is  the  bush 
That  we  must  stand  and  play  the  murtherer  in  ? 

Forester.   Hereby,  upon  the  edge  of  yonder  coppice  ; 
A  stand  where  you  may  make  the  fairest  shoot. 

Princess.  I  thank  my  beauty,  I  am  fair  that  shoot, 
And  thereupon  thou  speak'st  the  fairest  shoot. 

Forester.  Pardon  me,  madam,  for  I  meant  not  so. 

Princess.  What,  what?  first  praise  me  and  again  say  no? 
O  short-liv'd  pride  !     Not  fair?  alack  for  woe  ! 

Forester.  Yes,  madam,  fair. 

Princess.  Nay,  never  paint  me  now  ; 

Where  fair  is  not,  praise  cannot  mend  the  brow. 
Here,  good  my  glass,  take  this  for  telling  true  ; 
Fair  payment  for  foul  words  is  more  than  due. 

Forester.  Nothing  but  fair  is  that  which  you  inherit.          10 

Princess.  See,  see,  my  beauty  will  be  sav'd  by  merit! 
O  heresy  in  fair,  fit  for  these  days ! 
A  giving  hand,  though  foul,  shall  have  fair  praise. — 
But  come,  the  bow ;  now  mercy  goes  to  kill, 
And  shooting  well  is  then  accounted  ill. 
Thus  will  I  save  my  credit  in  the  shoot : 
Not  wounding,  pity  would  not  let  me  do  't ; 
If  wounding,  then  it  was  to  show  my  skill, 
That  more  for  praise  than  purpose  meant  to  kill. 
And  out  of  question  so  it  is  sometimes,  30 

Glory  grows  guilty  of  detested  crimes, 
When,  for  fame's  sake,  for  praise,  an  outward  part, 
We  bend  to  that  the  working  of  the  heart; 
As  I  for  praise  alone  now  seek  to  spill 
The  poor  deer's  blood,  that  my  heart  means  no  ill. 

Boyet.  Do  not  curst  wives  hold  that  self-sovereignty 
Only..for  praise  sake,  when  they  strive  to  be 
Lords  o'eTtrmtf  .lords  ? 

Princess.  Only  for  praise  >,_ancl  praise  we  may  afford 
To  any  lady  that  subdues  a  lord.  40 


68  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

y 
Boyet.  Here  comes  a  member  of  the  commonwealth. 


Enter  COSTARD.. 

Costard.  God  dig  -you  -den  all!     Pray  you,  which  is  the 
head  lady? 

Princess.  Thou  shalt  know  her,  fellow,  by  the  rest  that 
have  no  heads. 

Costard.  Which  is  the  greatest  lady,  the  highest? 

Princess.  The  thickest  and  the  tallest. 

Costard.  The  thickest  and  the  tallest  !  it  is  so  ;  truth  is  truth. 
An  your  waist,  mistress,  were  as  slender  as  my  wit, 
One  o'  these  maids'  girdles  for  your  waist  should  be  fit.       5° 
Are  not  you  the  chief  woman  ?  you  are  the  thickest  here. 

Princess.  What  's  your  will,  sir?  what  's  your  will  ? 

Costard.  I  have  a  letter  from  Monsieur  Biron  to  one  Lady 
Rosaline. 

Princess.  O,  thy  letter,  thy  letter  !  he  's  a  good  friend  of 

mine. 

Stand  aside,  good  bearer.  —  Boyet,  you  can  carve  ; 
Break  up  this  capon. 

Boyet.  I  am  bound  to  serve.  — 

This  letter  is  mistook,  it  importeth  none  here  ;  \J^*J 
It  is  writ  to  Jaquenetta. 

Princess.  We  will  read  it,  I  swear. 

Break  the  neck  of  the  wax,  and  every  one  give  ear.  59 

Boyet.  [Reads]  '  By  heaven,  that  thou  art  fair,  is  most  infal- 
lible ;  true,  that  thou  art  beauteous  ;  truth  itself,  that  thou  art 
lovely.  More  fairer  than  fair,  beautiful  than  beauteous,  truer 
than  truth  itself,  have  commiseration  on  thy  heroical  vassal! 
The  magnanimous  and  most  illustrate  king  Cophetua  set  eye 
upon  the  pernicious  and  indubitate  beggar  Zenelophon  ;  and  he 
it  was  that  might  rightly  say,  Veni,  vidi,  vici  ;  which  to  anno- 
thanize  in  the  vulgar,  —  O  base  and  obscure  vulgar!  —  videlicet, 
He  came,  saw,  and  overcame  :  he  came,  one  ;  saw,  two;  over- 
came, three.  Who  came?  the  king:  why  did  he  come?  to  see: 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I.  69 

why  did  he  see  ?  to  overcome :  to  whom  came  he  ?  to  the  beggar  : 
what  saw  he  ?  the  beggar :  who  overcame  he  ?  the  beggar.  The  <j  / 
conclusion  is  victory :  on  whose  side  ?  the  king's.  1 "he  captive 
is  enriched :  on  whose  side?  the  beggar's.  The  catastrophe  is  a 
nuptial:  on  whose  side?  the  king's :  no,  on  both  in  one,  or  one 
in  both.  I  am  the  king;  for  so  stands  the  comparison:  thou 
the  beggar;  for  so  witnesseth  thy  lowliness.  Shall  I  command 
thy  love  ?  I  may :  shall  I  enforce  thy  loz>e  ?  I  could :  shall  I  en- 
treat thy  love?  I  will.  What  shalt  thou  exchange  for  rags? 
robes  ;  for  tittles  ?  titles  ;  for  thyself?  me.  Thus,  expecting  thy 
reply,  I  profane  my  lips  on  thy  foot,  my  eyes  on  thy  picture,  and 
my  heart  on  thy  every  part.  Thine,  in  the  dearest  design  of  in- 
dustry, DON  ADRIANO  DE  ARMADO. 
'  Thus  dost  thou  hear  the  Nemean  lion  roar  83 

'Gainst  thee,  thou  lamb,  that  standest  as  his  prey. 
Submissive  fall  his  princely  feet  before, 

And  he  from  forage  will  incline  to  play  ; 
But  if  thou  strive,  poor  soul,  what  art  thou  then  ? 
food  for  his  rage,  repastttre  for  his  den.' 

Princess.  What  plume  of  feathers  is  he  that  indited  this 

letter? 
What  vane?  what  weathercock?  did  you  ever  hear  better? 

Boyet.   I  am  much  deceiv'd  but  I  remember  the  style.      g> 

Princess.  Else  your  memory  is  bad,  going  o'er  it  erewhile. 

Boyet.  This  Armado  is  a  Spaniard,  that  keeps  here  in  court ; 
A  phantasime,  a  Monarcho,  and  one  that  makes  sport 
To  the  prince  and^  his  bookmates. 

Princess.  Thou  fellow,  a  word : 

Who  gave  thee  this  letter? 

Costard.  I  told  you  ;  my  lord. 

Princess.  To  whom  shouldst  thou  give  it? 

Costard.  From  my  lord  to  my  lady. 

Princess.  From  which  lord  to  which  lady  ? 

Costard.  From  my  lord  Biron,  a  good  master  of  mine, 
To  a  lady  of  France  that  he  called  Rosaline.  KX> 


£ 


70  LOVE'S  LABOUK  'S  LOST. 

Princess.  Thou  hast  mistaken  his  letter.  —  Come,  lords, 

away.  — 

\To  Rosaline\  Here,  sweet,  put  up  this ;  't  will  be  thine  an- 
other day.  {Exeunt  Princess  and  train. 
Boyet.  Who  is  the  suitor?  who  is  the  suitor? 
Rosaline.  Shall  I  teach  you  to  know? 
Boyet.  Ay,  my  continent  of  beauty. 

Rosaline.  Why,  she  that  bears  the  bow. 

Finely  put  off! 

Boyet.  My  lady  goes  to  kill  horns  ;  but,  if  thou  marry, 
Hang  me  by  the  neck,  if  horns  that  year  miscarry. 
Finely  put  on  ! 

Rosaline.  Well,  then,  I  am  the  shooter. 
Boyet.  And  who  is  your  deer? 

Rosaline.  If  we  choose  by  the  horns,  yourself  come  not 
near.  >» 

Finely  put  on,  indeed! 

Maria.  You  still  wrangle  with  her,  Boyet,  and  she  strikes 

at  the  brow. 

Boyet.   But  she  herself  is  hit  lower.     Have  I  hit  her  now  ? 
Rosaline.   Shall  I  come  upon  thee  with  an  old  saying,  that 
was  a  man  when  King  Pepin  of  France  was  a  little  boy,  as 
touching  the  hit  it  ? 

Boyet.  So  I  may  answer  thee  with  one  as  old,  that  was  a 
woman  when  Queen  Guinever  of  Britain  was  a  little  wench, 
as  touching  the  hit  it.  \J^~J 

Rosaline.    Thou  canst  not  hit  it,  hit  it,  hit  it,  120 

Thou  canst  not  hit  it,  my  good  man. 
Boyet.         An  I  cannot,  cannot,  cannot, 
An  I  cannot,  another  can. 

{Exit  Rosaline  and  Katherine. 
Costard.  By  my  troth,  most  pleasant!   how  both  did  fit 

it! 

Maria.  A  mark  marvellous  well  shot,  for  they  both  did 
hit  it. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  7I 

Boyet.  A  mark!     O,  mark  but  that  mark!     A  mark,  says 

my  lady!  v-p 

Let  the  mark  have  a  prick' in  't,  to  mete  at,  if  it  may  be. 

Maria.  Wide  o'  the  bow-hand!  i'  faith,  your  hand  is  out.  \ 

Costard.   Indeed,  a'  must  shoot  nearer,  or  he  '11  ne'er  hit 

the  clout.  129 

Boyet.   An  if  my  hand  be  out,  then  belike  your  hand  is  in. 

Costard.  Then  will  she  get  the  upshoot  by  cleaving  the  pin. 

Maria.  Come,  come,  you  talk  greasi]y;  your  lips  grow  foul. 

Costard.  She  's  too  hard  for  you  at  pricks,  sir ;  challenge 

her  to  bowl. 

Boyet.  I  fear  too  much  rubbing. — Good  night,  my  good 

owl.  [Exeunt  Boyet  and  Maria. 

Costard.   By  my  soul,  a  swain  !  a  most  simple  clown  !      £J 

Lord,  Lord,  how  the  ladies  and  I  have  put  him  down  ! — 

Sola,  sola  !  [Shout  within. 

[Exit  Costard,  running. 

SCENE  II.     The  Same. 
Enter  HOLOFERNES,  SIR  NATHANIEL,  and  DULL. 

Nathaniel.  Very  reverend  sport,  truly;  and  done  in  the 
testimony  of  a  good  conscience. 

Holofernes.  The  deer  was,  as  you  know,  sanguis,  in  blood  ; 
ripe  as  the  pomewater,  who  now  hangeth  liklf  a  jewel  in  the 
ear  of  caelo,  the  sky,  the  welkin,  the  heaven  ;  and  anon  fall- 
eth  like  a  crab  on  the  face  of  terra,  the  soil,  the  land,  the 
earth.  • 

Nathaniel.  Truly,  Master  Holofernes,  the  epithets  are 
sweetly  varied,  like  a  scholar  at  the  least:  -but,  sir,  I  assure 
ye,  it  was  a  buck  of  the  first  head.  10 

"~  Holofernes.  Sir  Nathaniel,  haud  credo. 

Dull.  'Twas  not  a  haud  credo;  'twas  a  pricket. 

Holofernes.  Most  barbarous  intimation  !  yet  a  kind  of  in- 
sinuation, as  it  were,  in  via,  in  way,  of  explication  ;  facere,  as 


72  LOWS  LABOUR  'S  LOST.  \\     ^ 

y,r 

it  were,  replication,  or  rather,  ostentare,  to  show,  as  it  were, 
his  inclination, — after  his  undressed,  unpolished,  uneducated, 
unpruned,  untrained,  or  rather,  unlettered,  or  ratherest,  un- 
confirmed fashion, — to  insert  again  my  haiid  credo  for  a 
deer.  19 

Dull.  I  said  the  deer  was  not  a  haud  credo ;  't  was  a 

pricket. 

Holofernes.  Twice-sod  simplicity,  bis  coctus  ! —    ,,  ^ 

O  thou  monster  Ignorance,  how  deformed  dost  thou  look ! 
Nathaniel.   Sir,  he  hath  never  fed  of  the  dainties  that  are 

bred  in  a  book; 

he  hath  not  eat  paper,  as  it  were;  he  hath  not  drunk  ink: 
his  intellect  is  not  replenished;  he  is  only  an  animal,  only 
sensible  in  the  duller  parts: 
And  such  barren  plants  are  set  before  us,  that  we  thankful 

should  be, 
Which  we  of  taste  and  feeling  are,  for  those  parts  that  do 

fructify  in  us  more  than  he. 

For  as  it  would  ill  become  me  to  be  vain,  indiscreet,  or  a  fool, 
So  were  there  a  patch^  set  on  learning,  to  see  him  in  a  school : 
But  omne  bene,  say  I;  being  of  an  old  father's  mind,  31 

Many  can  brook  the  weather  that  love  not  the  wind. 

Dull.  You  two  are  book-men  :  can  you  tell  me  by  your  wit 
What  was  a  month  old  at  Cain's  birth,  that 's  not  five  weeks 

old  as  yet  ?  -    »  .s<^%/ 

Holofernes.  Dictynna,  goodman  Dull;  Dictynna,  goodman 

Dull. 

Bull.  What  is  Dictynna? 

Nathaniel.   A  title  to  Phcebe,  to  Luna,  to  the  moon. 
Holofernes.  The  moon  was  a  month  old  when  Adam  was 

no  more, 

And  raught  not  to  five  weeks  when  he  came  to  five-score. 
The  allusion  holds  in  the  exchange.  40 

Dull.  'T  is  true  indeed ;   the  collusion   holds  in  the  ex- 
change. 


ACT  IV.    SCEA'E  II. 


73 


Holofernes.  God  comfort  thy  capacity!  I  say,  the  allusion 
holds  in  the  exchange. 

Dull.  And  I  say,  the  pollusion  holds  in  the  exchange;  for 
the  moon  is  never  but  a  month  old:  and  I  say  butmic  that, 
'twas  a  pricket  that  the  princess  killed. 

Holofernes.  Sir  Nathaniel,  will  you  hear  an  extemporal  ep- 
itaph on  the  death  of  the  deer?  And,  to  humour  the  igno- 
rant, call  I  the  deer  the  princess  killed  a  pricket. 

Nathaniel.  Perge,  good  Master  Holofernes,  perge ;  so  it 
shall  please  you  to  abrogate  scurrility.  5. 

Holofernes.  I  will  something  affect  the  letter,  for  it  argues    - 
facility. 

The  preyful  princess  pierc'd  and  prick1  d  a  prt  tty  pleasing 
pricket;  <V 

Some  say  a  sore ;  but  not  a  sore,  till  now  made  sore  with 

shooting. 

The  dogs    did  yell :  put  L    to   sore,  then   sorel  jumps  from  ^> 
thicket  ; 

Or  pricket  sore,  or  else  sorel ;  the  people  fall  a- hooting. 
If  sore  be  sore,t/ien~~ZrtD  soft  ma  fas  fifty  sores, — o  sore  L. 
Of  one  sore  I  an  hundred  make  by  adding  but  one  more  L. 

Nathaniel.  A  rare  talent.  .t^-»~  <*> 

Dull.  [Aside]  If  a  talent  be  a  claw,  look  how  he  claws 
him  with  a  talent. 

Holofernes.  This  is  a  gift  that  I  have,  simple,  simple ;  a 
foolish  extravagant  spirit,  full  of  forms,  figures,  shapes,  ob- 
jects, ideas,  apprehensions,  motions,  revolutions :  these  are 
begot  in  the  ventricle  of  memory,  nourished  in  the  womb 
of  pia  mater,  and  delivered  upon  the  mellowing  of  occasion. 
But  the  gift  is  good  in  those  in  whom  it  is  acute,  and  I  am 
thankful  for  it.  69 

Nathaniel.  Sir,  I  praise  the  Lord  for  you :  and  so  may  my 
parishioners  ;  for  their  sons  are  well  tutored  by  you.  and  their 
daughters  profit  very  greatly  under  you  :  you  are  a  good  mem- 
ber of  the  commonwealth. 


74 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


Holofernes.  Mehercle,  if  their  sons  be  ingenuous,  they  shall 
want  no  instruction  ;  if  their  daughters  be  capable,  I  will  put 
it  to  them:  but  vir  sapit  qui  pauca  loquitur;  a  soul  femi- 
nine saluteth  us. 

K 

Enter  JAQUENETTA  and  COSTARD.  .^^^ 

"*^. 

Jaquenetta.  God  give  you  good  morrow,  master  Person. 

Holofernes.  Master  Person,  quasi  pers-on.  An  if  one 
should  be  pierced,  which  is  the  one  ?  80 

Costard.  Marry,  master  schoolmaster,  he  that  is  likest  to 
a  hogshead. 

Holofernes.  Piercing  a  hogshead  !  a  good  lustre  of  conceit 
in  a  turf  of  earth;  fire  enough  for  a  flint,  pearl  enough  for  a 
swine  :  't  is  pretty  ;  it  is  well.  \  n  °\ 

Jaquenetta.  Good  master  Person,  be  so  good  as^read  me 
this  letter:  it  was  given  me  by  Costard,  and  sent  me  from 
Don  Armado;  I  beseech  you,  read  it. 

Holofernes.  Fauste,  precor  gelida  quando  pecus  omne  sub 
umbra  Ruminat, — and  so  forth.  Ah,  good  old  Mantuan  ! 
I  may  speak  of  thee  as  the  traveller  doth  of  Venice  :  91 

Venetia,  Venetia, 
Chi  non  ti  vede  non  ti  pretia. 

Old  Mantuan,  old  Mantuan  !  who  understandeth  thee  not, 
loves  thee  not.  Ut,  re,  sol,  la,  mi,  fa.  Under  pardon,  sir, 
what  are  the  contents?  or  rather,  as  Horace  says  in  his — 
What,  my  soul,  verses? 

Nathaniel.   Ay,  sir,  and  very  learned. 

Holofernes.  Let  me  hear  a  staff,  a  stanza,  a  verse;  lege, 
domine.  100 

Nathaniel.  [Reads] 
'If  love  make  me  forsworn,  how  shall  I  swear  to  love  ? 

Ah,  never  faith  could  hold,  if  not  to  beauty  vow'd! 
Though  to  myself  forsworn,  to  thee  I '  11  faithful  prove  ; 

Those    thoughts    to    me    were    oaks,   to    thee    like    osiers 
bow'd. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  7e 

75 

Study  his  bias  leaves  and  makes  his  book  thine  eyes, 

Where  all  those  pleasures  live  that  art  would  comprehend ; 
If  knowledge  be  the  mark,  to  know  thee  shall  suffice ; 

Well  learned  is  that  tongue  that  well  can  thee  commend, 
All  ignorant  that  soul  that  sees  thee  without  wonder  ; 

Which  is  to  me  some  praise  that  I  thy  parts  admire.  no 

Thy  eye  Jove's  lightning  bears,  thy  voice  his  dreadful  thunder. 

Which,  not  to  anger  bent,  is  music  and  sweet  fire. 
Celestial  as  thou  art,  O,  pardon  love  this  wrong, 
That  sings  heaven  s praise  with  such  an  earthly  tongue.'1 

Holofernes.  You  find  not  the  apostrophas,  and  so  miss  the 
accent;  let  me  supervise  the  canzonet.  Here  are  only  num- 
bers ratified ;  but,  for  the  elegancy,  facility,  and  golden  ca- 
dence of  poesy,  caret.  Ovidius  Naso  was  the  man ;  and  why, 
indeed,  Naso,  but  for  smelling  out  the  odoriferous  flowers 
of  fancy,  the  jerks  of  invention  ?  Imitari  is  nothing ;  so  doth 
the  hound  his  master,  the  ape  his  keeper,  the  tired  horse  his 
rider. — But,  damosella  virgin,  was  this  directed  to  you  ?  122 

Jaquenetta.  Ay,  sir,  from  one  Monsieur  Biron,  one  of  the 
strange  queen's  lords. 

Holofernes.  I  will  overglance  the  superscript:  ''To  the  snow- 
white  hand  of  the  most  beauteous  Lady  Rosaline.'1  I  will  look 
again  on  the  intellect  of  the  letter,  for  the  nomination  of  the 
party  writing  to  the  person  written  unto:  lYoitr  ladyship's 
in  all  desired  employment,  Biron.'  Sir  Nathaniel,  this  Biron 
is  one  of  the  votaries  with  the  king;  and  here  he  hath  framed 
a  letter  to  a  sequent  of  the  stranger  queen's,  which  acciden- 
tally, or  by  the  way  of  progression,  hath  miscarried. — Trip 
and  go,  my  sweet;  deliver  this  paper  into  the  royal  hand  of 
the  king:  it  may  concern  much.  Stay  not  thy  compliment; 
I  forgive  thy  duty:  adieu. 

Jaquenetta.  Good  Costard,  go  with  me. — Sir,  God  save 
your  life! 

Costard.   Have  with  thee.  my  girl. 

[Exeunt  Costard  and  Jaquenetta. 


7  6  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Nathaniel.  Sir,  you  have  done  this  in  the  fear  of  God, 
very  religiously;  and,  as  a  certain  father  saith, —  MO 

Holofernes.  Sir,  tell  not  me  of  the  father;  I  do  fear  colour- 
able colours.  But  to  return  to  the  verses:  did  they  please 
you,  Sir  Nathaniel? 

Nathaniel.  Marvellous  well  for  the  pen. 

Holofernes.  I  do  dine  to-day  at  the  father's  of  a  certain 
pupil  of  mine;  where,  if,  before  repast,  it  shall  please  you  to 
gratify  the  table  with  a  grace,  I  will,  on  my  privilege  I  have 
with  the  parents  of  the  foresaid  child  or  pupil,  undertake 
your  JDen  venuto;  where  I  will  prove  those  verses  to  be  very 
unlearned,  neither  savouring  of  poetry,  wit,  nor  invention. 
I  beseech  your  society.  151 

Nathaniel.  And  thank  you  too;  for  society,  saith  the  text, 
is  the  happiness  of  life. 

Holofernes.  And,  certes,  the  text  most  infallibly  concludes 
it. — [To  Z>////]  Sir,  I  do  invite  you  too;  you  shall  not  say  me 
nay;  pauca  verba. — Away!  the  gentles  are  at  their  game, 
and  we  will  to  our  recreation.  "^tx^  [Exeunt. 

6 

SCENE  III.     The  Same. 
Enter  BIRON,  with  a  paper. 

Biron.  The  king  he  is  hunting,  the  deer;  I  am  coursing 
myself:  ;they  have  pitched  a  'toil ;  I  am  toiling  in  a  pitch, — 
pitch  that  defiles.  Defile!  a  foul  word.  Well,  set  thee 
down,  sorrow!  for  so  they  say  the  fool  said,  and  so  say  I, 
and  ay  the  fool.  Well  proved,  wit!  By  the  Lord,  this  love 
is  as  mad  as  Ajax:  it  kills  sheep;  it  kills  me,  ay,  a  sheep. 
Well  proved  again  o'  my  side  \j  I  will  not  love :  if  I  do,  hang 
me;  i'  faith,  I  will  not.  O,  but  her  eye, — by  this  light,  but 
for  her  eye,  I  would  not  love  her;  yes,  for  her  two  eyes. 
Well,  I  do  nothing  in  the  world  but  lie,  and  lie  in  my  throat. 
By  heaven,  I  do  love :  and  it  hath  taught  me  to  rhyme  and 
to  be  melancholy;  and.  here  is  part  of  my  rhyme,  and  here 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III. 


77 


my  melancholy.  Well,  she  hath  one  o'  my  sonnets  already  • 
the  clown  bore  it,  the  fool  sent  it,  and  the  lady  hath  it ;  sweet 
clown,  sweeter  fool,  sweetest  lady !  By  the  world,  I  would  not 
care  a  pin,  if  the  other  three  were  in. — Here  comes  one  with 
a  paper;  God  give  him  grace  to  groan!  [Gets  up  into  a  tree. 

Enter  the  KING,  with  a  paper. 

King.  Ay  me ! 

Biron.  [Aside]  Shot,  by  heaven! — Proceed,  sweet  Cupid; 
thou  hast  thumped  him  with  thy  bird-bolt  under  the  left 
pap. — In  faith,  secrets!  21 

King.   [Reads] 

So  sweet  a  kiss  the  golden  sun  gives  not 

To  those  fresh  morning  drops  upon  the  rose, 
As  thy  eye-beams,  when  their  fresh  rays  have  smote 
The  night  of  dew  that  on  my  cheeks  down  flows  : 
Nor  shines  the  silver  .moon  one  half  so  bright 
Throiigh  the  transparent  bosom  of  the  deep, 
As  doth  thy  face  through  tears  of  mine  give  light; 

Thou  shin 'st  in  every  tear  that  I  do  weep : 
No  drop  but  as  a  coach  doth  carry  thee;  30 

So  ridest  thou  triumphing  in  my  woe. 
Do  but  behold  the  tears  that  swell  in  me, 

And  they  thy  glory  through  my  grief  will  show : 
But  do  not  love  thyself ;  then  thou  wilt  keep 
My  tears  for  glasses,  and  still  make  me  weep. 
O  queen  of  queens  !  how  far  dost  thou  excel, 
No  thought  can  think,  nor  tongue  of  mortal  tell. 
How  shall  she  know  my  griefs  ?     I  '11  drop  the  paper. 
Sweet  leaves,  shade  folly. — Who  is  he  comes  here  ? 

[Steps  aside. 

What,  Longaville  !  and  reading  !  listen,  ear.  40 

Biron.  Now,  in  thy  likeness,  one  more  fool  appear ! 


7g  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

f^^ 

Enter  LONGAVILLE,  with  a  paper. 

Longaville.  Ay  me,  I  am  forsworn !       ^ 
Biron.  Why,  he  comes  in  like  a  perjure,  wearing  papers. 
King.   In  love,  I  hope  ;  sweet  fellowship  in  shame  ! 
Biron.  One  drunkard  loves  another  of  the  name. 
Longaville.  Am  I  the  first  that  have  been  perjur'd  so? 
Biron.  I  could  put  thee  in  comfort, — not  by  two  that  I  know. 
Thou  mak'st  the  triumviry,  the  corner-cap  of  society, 
The  shape  of  Love's  Tyburn  that  hangs  up  simplicity. 

Longaville.  I  fear  these  stubborn  lines  lack  power  to  move. — 
O  sweet  Maria,  empress  of  my  love  ! —  si 

These  numbers  will  I  tear,  and  write  in  prose. 

Biron.  O,  rhymes  are  guards  on  wanton  Cupid's  hose  ; 
Disfigure  not  his  slop. 

Longaville.  This  same  shall  go. — 

[Reads]    Did  not  the  heavenly  rhetoric  of  thine  eye, 

'  Gainst  whom  the  world  cannot  hold  argument, 
Persuade  my  heart  to  this  false  perjury  ? 

Vows  for  thee  broke  deserve  not  punishment. 
A  woman  I  forswore ;  but  I  will  prove, 

Thou  being  a  goddess,  I  forswore  not  thee :  (x> 

My  vow  was  earthly,  thou  a  heavenly  love ; 

Thy  grace  being  gain' d  cures  all  disgrace  in  me. 
Vows  are  but  breath,  and  breath  a  vapour  is  : 

Then  thou,  fair  sun,  which  on  my  earth  dost  shine, 
ExhaVst  this  vapour-vow  ;  in  thee  it  is. 
If  broken  then,  it  is  no  fault  of  mine ; 
If  by  me  broke,  what  fool  is  not  so  wise 
To  lose  an  oath  to  win  a  paradise  1 
Biron.  This  is  the  liver-vein,  which  makes  flesh  a  deity, 
A  green  goose  a  goddess  ;  pure,  pure  idolatry.  70 

God  amend  us,  God  amend !  we  are  much  out  o'  the  way. 
Longaville.  By  whom  shall  I  send  this  ? — Company !  stay. 

[Steps  aside. 


ACT  IV.    SCEXE  lit.  79 

Biron.   All  hid,  all  hid;  an  old  infant  play. 
Like  a  demigod  here  sit  I  in  the  sky, 
And  wretched  fools'  secrets  heedfully  o'er-eye. — 
More  sacks  to  the  mill !     O  heavens,  I  have  my  wish! 

Enter  DUMAIN,  with  a  papef. 
Dumain  transform'd!  four  woodcocks  in  a  dish! 
Dumain.  O  most  divine  Kate  ! 
Biron.  O  most  profane  coxcomb  ! 

Dumain.   By  heaven,  the  wonder  in  a  mortal  eye  !  80 

Biron.  By  earth,  she  is  not,  corporal,  there  you  lie. 
Dumain.   Her  amber  hairs  for  foul  hath  amber  quoted. 
Biron.  An  amber-colour'd  raven  was  well  noted. 
Dumain.   As  upright  as  the  cedar. 
Biron.  Stoop,  I  say ; 

Her  shoulder  is  with  child. 

Dumain.  As  fair  as  day. 

Biron.  Ay;  as  some  days  ;  but  then  no  sun  must  shine. 
Dumain.  O  that  I  had  my  wish ! 
Longaville.  And  I  had  mine! 

King.   And  I  mine  too,  good  Lord! 
Biron.   Amen,  so  I  had  mine  :  is  not  that  a  good  word? 
Dumain.   I  would  forget  her  ;  but  a  fever  she  go 

Reigns  in  my  blood  and  will  remember'd  be. 

Biron.  A  fever  in  your  blood  !  why,  then  incision 
Would  let  her  out  in  saucers;  sweet  misprision! 

Dumain.  Once  more  I  '11  read  the  ode  that  I  have  writ. 
Biron.  Once  more  I  '11  mark  how  love  can  vary  wit. 
Dumain.   [Reads] 

On  a  day — alack  the  day  ! — 

Lore,  whose  month  is  ever  May, 

Spied  a  blossom  passing  fair 

Playing  in  the  wanton  air  ; 

Throtigh  the  velvet  leaves  the  wina,  100 

All  unseen  fan  passage  find; 


8o  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

That  the  lover,  sick  to  death, 

Wish? d  himself  the  heaven's  breath. 

Air,  quoth  he,  thy  cheeks  may  blow ; 

Air,  would  I  might  triumph  so  ! 

But,  alack,  my  hand  is  sworn 

Ne'er  to  pluck  thee  from  thy  thorn ; 

Vow,  alack,  for  youth  unmeet, 

Youth  so  apt  to  pluck  a  sweet! 

Do  not  call  it  sin  in  me,  no 

That  I  am  forsworn  for  thee; 

Thou  for  whom  yove  would  swear 

Juno  but  an  Ethiope  were. 

And  deny  himself  for  Jove, 

Turning  mortal  for  thy  love. 
This  will  I  send  and  something  else  more  plain, 
That  shall  express  my  true  love's  fasting  pain. 
O,  would  the  king,  Biron,  and  Longaville, 
Were  lovers  too  !     Ill,  to  example  ill, 

Would  from  my  forehead  wipe  a  perjur'd  note;  no 

For  none  offend  where  all  alike  do  dote. 

Longaville.  \Advancing\  Dumain,  thy  love  is  far  from  charity, 
That  in  love's  grief  clesir'st  society; 
You  may  look  pale,  but  I  should  blush,  I  know, 
To  be  o'erheard  and  taken  napping  so. 

King.  [Advancing]  Come,  sir,  you  blush;  as  his  your  case 

is  such  ; 

You  chide  at  him,  offending  twice  as  much; 
You  do  not  love  Maria  ;  Longaville 
Did  never  sonnet  for  her  sake  compile, 

Nor  never  lay  his  wreathed  arms  athwart  130 

His  loving  bosom  to  keep  down  his  heart. 
I  have  been  closely  shrouded  in  this  bush 
And  mark'd  you  both,  and  for  you  both  did  blush. 
I  heard  your  guilty  rhymes,  observ'd  your  fashion, 
Saw  sighs  reek  from  you,  noted  well  your  passion : 


ACT  /r.     SCENE  ///.  8 1 

Ay  me  !  says  one  ;  O  Jove  !  the  other  cries  ; 

One,  her  hairs  were  gold,  crystal  the  other's  eyes. — 

\_To  Longaville\   You   would   for   paradise    break   faith  and 

troth; — 

[To  Dumairi\  And  Jove,  for  your  love,  would  infringe  an  oath. 
What  will  Biron  say  when  that  he  shall  hear  Mo 

Faith  so  infringed,  which  such  zeal  did  swear? 
How  will  he  scorn!  how  will  he  spend  his  wit! 
How  will  he  triumph,  leap,  and  laugh  at  it! 
For  all  the  wealth  that  ever  I  did  see, 
I  would  not  have  him  know  so  much  by  me. 

Biron.  Now  step  I  forth  to  whip  hypocrisy. —   [Advancing. 
Ah,  good  my  liege,  I  pray  thee,  pardon  me  ! 
Good  heart,  what  grace  hast  thou,  thus  to  reprove 
These  worms  for  loving,  that  art  most  in  love? 
Your  eyes  do  make  no  coaches  ;  in  your  tears  15° 

There  is  no  certain  princess  that  appears ; 
You  '11  not  be  perjur'd,  't  is  a  hateful  thing ; 
Tush,  none  but  minstrels  like  of  sonneting! 
But  are  you  not  asham'd?  nay,  are  you  not, 
All  three  of  you,  to  be  thus  much  o'ershot? 
You  found  his  mote  ;  the  king  your  mote  did  see  ; 
But  I  a  beam  do  find  in  each  of  three. 
O,  what  a  scene  of  foolery  have  I  seen, 
Of  sighs,  of  groans,  of  sorrow,  and  of  teen  ! 
O  me,  with  what  strict  patience  have  I  sat,  160 

To  see  a  king  transformed  to  a  gnat! 
To  see  great  Hercules  whipping  a  gig, 
And  profound  Solomon  to  tune  a  jig, 
And  Nestor  play  at  push-pin  with  the  boys, 
And  critic  Timon  laugh  at  idle  toys  ! 
Where  lies  thy  grief,  O,  tell  me,  good  Dumain? — 
And,  gentle  Longaville,  where  lies  thy  pain? — 
And  where  my  liege's?  all  about  the  breast. — 
A  caudle,  ho ! 

F 


82  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

King.  Too  bitter  is  thy  jest. 

Are  we  betray'd  thus  to  thy  over-view?  170 

Biron.   Not  you  to  me,  but  I  betray'd  by  you  : 
I,  that  am  honest ;  I,  that  hold  it  sin 
To  break  the  vow  I  am  engaged  in ; 
I  am  betray'd,  by  keeping  company 
With  men  like  you,  men  of  inconstancy. 
When  shall  you  see  me  write  a  thing  in  rhyme  ? 
Or  groan  for  love?  or  spend  a  minute's  time 
In  pruning  me  ?     When  shall  you  hear  that  I 
Will  praise  a  hand,  a  foot,  a  face,  an  eye, 
A  gait,  a  state,  a  brow,  a  breast,  a  waist,  i&> 

A  leg,  a  limb? — 

King.  Soft !  whither  away  so  fast  ? 

A  true  man  or  a  thief  that  gallops  so? 

Biron.   I  post  from  love  ;  good  lover,  let  me  go. 

Enter  JAQUENETTA  and  COSTARD. 

Jaquenetta.   God  bless  the  king  ! 

King.  What  present  hast  thou  there  ? 

Costard.  Some  certain  treason. 

King.  What  makes  treason  here  ? 

Costard.  Nay,  it  makes  nothing,  sir. 

King.  If  it  mar  nothing  neither, 

The  treason  and  you  go  in  peace  away  together. 

Jaquenetta.   I  beseech  your  grace  let  this  letter  be  read : 
Our  person  misdoubts  it;  't  was  treason,  he  said. 

King.  Biron,  read  it  over. —  \Givinghimthepaper. 

Where  hadst  thou  it?  191 

Jaquenetta.   Of  Costard. 

King.  Where  hadst  thou  it? 

Costard.  Of  Dun  Adramadio,  Dun  Adramadio. 

\Biron  tears  the  letter. 

King.   How  now!  what  is  in  you?  why  dost  thou  tear  it? 

Biron.  A  toy,  my  liege,  a  toy ;  your  grace  needs  not  fear  it. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III.  83 

Longaville.  It  did  move  him  to  passion,  and  therefore  let 's 
hear  it. 

Dumain.   It  is  Biron's  writing,  and  here  is  his  name. 

[  Gathering  up  the  pieces. 

Biron.  \To  Costard}  Ah,  you  whoreson  loggerhead!   you 

were  born  to  do  me  shame. — 
Guilty,  my  lord,  guilty !     I  confess,  I  confess.  200 

King.  What? 

Biron.  That  you  three  fools  lack'd  me  fool  to  make  up  the 

mess. 

He,  he,  and  you,  and  you,  my  liege,  and  I, 
Are  pick-purses  in  love,  and  we  deserve  to  die. 
O,  dismiss  this  audience,  and  I  shall  tell  you  more. 

Dumain.   Now  the  number  is  even. 

Biron.  True,  true  ;  we  are  four. — 

Will  these  turtles  be  gone  ? 

King.  Hence,  sirs  ;  away ! 

Costard.  Walk  aside  the  true  folk,  and  let  the  traitors  stay. 
^Exeunt  Costard  and  Jaquenetta. 

Biron.  Sweet  lords,  sweet  lovers,  O,  let  us  embrace  ! 
•  As  true  we  are  as  flesh  and  blood  can  be  :  210 

The  sea  will  ebb  and  flow,  heaven  show  his  face  ; 

Young  blood  doth  not  obey  an  old  decree. 
We  cannot  cross  the  cause  why  we  were  born ; 
Therefore  of  all  hands  must  we  be  forsworn. 

King.  What,  did  these  rent  lines  show  some  love  of  thine  ? 

Biron.   Did  they,  quoth  you  ?    Who  sees  the  heavenly  Ros- 
aline, 
That,  like  a  rude  and  savage  man  of  Inde, 

At  the  first  opening  of  the  gorgeous  east, 
Bows  not  his  vassal  head,  and  strucken  blind 

Kisses  the  base  ground  with  obedient  breast?  MO 

What  peremptory  eagle-sighted  eye 

Dares  look  upon  the  heaven  of  her  brow, 
That  is  not  blinded  by  her  majesty? 


84  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

King.  What  zeal,  what  fury  hath  inspir'd  thee  now? 
My  love,  her  mistress,  is  a  gracious  moon ; 

She  an  attending  star,  scarce  seen  a  light. 
Biron.  My  eyes  are  then  no  eyes,  nor  I  Biron. 

O,  but  for  my  love,  day  would  turn  to  night ! 
Of  all  complexions  the  cull'd  sovereignty 

Do  meet,  as  at  a  fair,  in  her  fair  cheek,  23* 

Where  several  worthies  make  one  dignity, 

Where  nothing  wants  that  want  itself  doth  seek. 
Lend  me  the  flourish  of  all  gentle  tongues, — 

Fie,  painted  rhetoric  !     O,  she  needs  it  not: 
To  things  of  sale  a  seller's  praise  belongs, 

She  passes  praise  ;  then  praise  too  short  doth  blot. 
A  wither'd  hermit,  five-score  winters  worn, 

Might  shake  off  fifty,  looking  in  her  eye; 
Beauty  doth  varnish  age,  as  if  new-born, 

And  gives  the  crutch  the  cradle's  infancy.  240 

O,  't  is  the  sun  that  maketh  all  things  shine. 

King.  By  heaven,  thy  love  is  black  as  ebony. 
Biron.  Is  ebony  like  her  ?     O  wood  divine  ! 

A  wife  of  such  wood  were  felicity.  . 

O,  who  can  give  an  oath  ?  where  is  a  book  ? 

That  I  may  swear  beauty  doth  beauty  lack, 
If  that  she  learn  not  of  her  eye  to  look ; 

No  face  is  fair  that  is  not  full  so  black. 
King.  O  paradox!     Black  is  the  badge  of  hell, 

The  hue  of  dungeons,  and  the  shade  of  night ;  250 

And  beauty's  crest  becomes  the  heavens  well. 

Biron.  Devils  soonest  tempt,  resembling  spirits  of  light. 
O,  if  in  black  my  lady's  brows  be  deck'd, 

It  mourns  that  painting  and  usurping  hair 
Should  ravish  doters  with  a  false  aspect ; 

And  therefore  is  she  born  to  make  black  fair. 
Her  favour  turns  the  fashion  of  the  days; 

For  native  blood  is  counted  painting  now, 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III.  85 

And  therefore  red,  that  would  avoid  dispraise, 

Paints  itself  black,  to  imitate  her  brow.  260 

Dumain.  To  look  like  her  are  chimney-sweepers  black. 

Longaville.   And  since  her  time  are  colliers  counted  bright. 
King.  And  Ethiopes  of  their  sweet  complexion  crack. 

Dumain.   Dark  needs  no  candles  now,  for  dark  is  light. 
Biron.  Your  mistresses  dare  never  come  in  rain, 

For  fear  their  colours  should  be  wash'd  away. 
King.  'T  were  good,  yours  did  ;  for,  sir,  to  tell  you  plain, 

I  '11  find  a  fairer  face  not  wash'd  to-day. 
Biron.  I  '11  prove  her  fair,  or  talk  till  doomsday  here. 

King.  No  devil  will  fright  thee  then  so  much  as  she.       2/0 
Dumain.  I  never  knew  man  hold  vile  stuff  so  dear. 

Longarille.  Look,  here  's  thy  love;  my  foot  and  her  face 

see. 
Biron.  O,  if  the  streets  were  paved  with  thine  eyes, 

Her  feet  were  much  too  dainty  for  such  tread  ! 
Dumain.  O  vile!  then,  as  she  goes,  what  upward  lies 

The  street  should  see  as  she  walk'd  overhead. 
King.  But  what  of  this?  are  we  not  all  in  love? 

Biron.  Nothing  so  sure;  and  thereby  all  forsworn. 
King.  Then  leave  this  chat ;  and,  good  Biron,  now  prove 

Our  loving  lawful,  and  our  faith  not  torn.  280 

Dumain.  Ay,  marry,  there;  some  flattery  for  this  evil. 

Longaville.  O,  some  authority  how  to  proceed ; 
Some  tricks,  some  quillets,  how  to  cheat  the  devil. 

Dumain.   Some  salve  for  perjury. 

Biron.  'Tis  more  than  need. 

Have  at  you,  then,  affection's  men  at  arms. 
Consider  what  you  first  did  swear  unto, — 
To  fast,  to  study,  and  to  see  no  woman ; 
Flat  treason  'gainst  the  kingly  state  of  youth. 
Say,  can  you  fast?  your  stomachs  are  too  young, 
And  abstinence  engenders  maladies.  290 

And  where  that  you  have  vow'd  to  study,  lords, 


86  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

In  that  each  of  you  have  forsworn  his  book, 

Can  you  still  dream  and  pore  and  thereon  look  ? 

[For  when  would  you,  my  lord, — or  you, — or  you, — 

Have  found  the  ground  of  study's  excellence 

Without  the  beauty  of  a  woman's  face  ? 

From  women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive: 

They  are  the  ground,  the  books,  the  academes. 

From  whence  doth  spring  the  true  Promethean  fire.] 

Why,  universal  plodding  poisons  up  3°° 

The  nimble  spirits  in  the  arteries, 

As  motion  and  long-during  action  tires 

The  sinewy  vigour  of  the  traveller. 

Now,  for  not  looking  on  a  woman's  face, 

You  have  in  that  forsworn  the  use  of  eyes, 

And  study  too,  the  causer  of  your  vow  ; 

[.For  where  is  any  author  in  the  world 

Teaches  such  beauty  as  a  woman's  eye  ? 

Learning  is  but  an  adjunct  to  ourself, 

And  where  we  are  our  learning  likewise  is;  310 

Then  when  ourselves  we  see  in  ladies'  eyes, 

Do  we  not  likewise  see  our  learning  there  ? 

O,  we  have  made  a  vow  to  study,  lords, 

And  in  that  vow  we  have  forsworn  our  books.] 

For  when  would  you,  my  liege, — or  you, — or  you, — 

In  leaden  contemplation  have  found  out 

Such  fiery  numbers  as  the  prompting  eyes 

Of  beauty's  tutors  have  enrich'd  you  with? 

Other  slow  arts  entirely  keep  the  brain, 

And  therefore,  finding  barren  practisers,  3*° 

Scarce  show  a  harvest  of  their  heavy  toil; 

But  love,  first  learned  in  a  lady's  eyes, 

Lives  not  alone  immured  in  the  brain, 

But,  with  the  motion  of  all  elements, 

Courses  as  swift  as  thought  in  every  power, 

And  gives  to  every  power  a  double  power, 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III.  87 

Above  their  functions  and  their  offices. 
It  adds  a  precious  seeing  to  the  eye ; 
A  lover's  eyes  will  gaze  an  eagle  blind; 
A  lover's  ear  will  hear  the  lowest  sound,  33° 

When  the  suspicious  head  of  theft  is  stopp'd ; 
Love's  feeling  is  more  soft  and  sensible 
Than  are  the  tender  horns  of  cockled  snails; 
Love's  tongue  proves  dainty  Bacchus  gross  in  taste; 
For  valour,  is  not  Love  a  Hercules, 
Still  climbing  trees  in  the  Hesperides  ? 
Subtle  as  Sphinx;  as  sweet  and  musical 
As  bright  Apollo's  lute,  strung  with  his  hair; 
And  when  Love  speaks,  the  voice  of  all  the  gods 
Make  heaven  drowsy  with  the  harmony.  340 

Never  durst  poet  touch  a  pen  to  write 
Until  his  ink  were  temper'd  with  Love's  sighs; 
O,  then  his  lines  would  ravish  savage  ears 
And  plant  in  tyrants  mild  humility! 
From  women's  eyes  this  doctrine  I  derive: 
They  sparkle  still  the  right  Promethean  fire; 
They  are  the  books,  the  arts,  the  academes, 
That  show,  contain,  and  nourish  all  the  world, 
Else  none  at  all  in  aught  proves  excellent^ 
Then  fools  you  were  these  women  to  forswear,  350 

Or  keeping  what  is  sworn,  you  will  prove  fools. 
For  wisdom's  sake,  a  word  that  all  men  love, 
Or  for  love's  sake,  a  word  that  loves  all  men, 
Or  for  men's  sake,  the  authors  of  these  women, 
Or  women's  sake,  by  whom  we  men  are  men, 
Let  us  once  lose  our  oaths  to  find  ourselves, 
Or  else  we  lose  ourselves  to  keep  our  oaths. 
It  is  religion  to  be  thus  forsworn, 
For  charity  itself  fulfils  the  law, — 

And  who  can  sever  love  from  charity?  360 

King.   Saint  Cupid,  then  !  and,  soldiers,  to  the  field ! 


88 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  \S  LOST. 


Biron.  Advance  your  standards,  and  upon  them,  lords  ! 
Pell-mell,  down  with  them  !  but  be  first  advis'd, 
In  conflict  that  you  get  the  sun  of  them. 

Longcmille.  Now  to  plain-dealing;  lay  these  glozes  by: 
Shall  we  resolve  to  woo  these  girls  of  France? 

King.  And  win  them  too;  therefore  let  us  devise 
Some  entertainment  for  them  in  their  tents. 

Biron.  First,  from  the  park  let  us  conduct  them  thither; 
Then  homeward  every  man  attach  the  hand  37o 

Of  his  fair  mistress.     In  the  afternoon 
We  will  with  some  strange  pastime  solace  them, 
Such  as  the  shortness  of  the  time  can  shape; 
For  revels,  dances,  masks,  and  merry  hours 
Forerun  fair  Love,  strewing  her  way  with  flowers. 

King.  Away,  away!  no  time  shall  be  omitted 
That  will  be  time,  and  may  by  us  be  fitted. 

Biron.  Allons!  aliens! — Sow'd  cockle  reap'd  no  corn  : 

And  justice  always  whirls  in  equal  measure; 
Light  wenches  may  prove  plagues  to  men  forsworn;  380 

If  so,  our  copper  buys  no  better  treasure.  {Exeunt. 


CUPID   WHETTING    HIS    DARTS.       FROM    AN   ANTIQUE  GHM. 


HOLOFERNES    AND    MOTH    (v.  2. 


ACT   V. 

SCENE  I.     The  Park. 
Enter  HOLOFERNES,  SIR  NATHANIEL,  and  DULL. 

Holofernes.   Satis  quod  sufficit. 

Nathaniel.  I  praise  God  for  you,  sir :  your  reasons  at  din- 
ner have  been  sharp  and  sententious;  pleasant  without  scur- 
rility, witty  without  affection,  audacious  without  impudency, 


9° 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


learned  without  opinion,  and  strange  without  heresy.  I  did 
converse  this  quondam  day  with  a  companion  of  the  king's, 
who  is  intituled,  nominated,  or  called,  Don  Adriano  de  Ar- 
mado. 

Hole/femes.  Novi  hominem  tanquam  te;  his  humour  is 
lofty,  his  discourse  peremptory,  his  tongue  filed,  his  eye  am- 
bitious, his  gait  majestical,  and  his  general  behaviour  vain, 
ridiculous,  and  thrasonical.  He  is  too  picked,  too  spruce, 
too  affected,  too  odd,  as  it  were,  too  peregrinate,  as  I  may 
call  it. 

Nathaniel.  A  most  singular  and  choice  epithet.  15 

\Draws  out  his  table-book. 

Holofernes.  He  draweth  out  the  thread  of  his  verbosity 
finer  than  the  staple  of  his  argument.  I  abhor  such  fanat- 
ical phantasimes,  such  insociable  and  point-device  compan- 
ions; such  rackers  of  orthography,  as  to  speak  dout,  fine, 
when  he  should  say  doubt ;  det,  when  he  should  pronounce 
debt, — d,  e,  b,  t,  not  d,  e,  t;  he  clepeth  a  calf,  cauf;  half, 
hauf;  neighbour  vocatur  nebour;  neigh  abbreviated  ne.  This 
is  abhominable, — which  he  would  call  abominable:  it  insin- 
uateth  me  of  insanire:  ne  intelligis,  domine?  to  make  fran- 
tic, lunatic. 

Nathaniel.  Laus  Deo,  bone,  intelligo. 

Holofernes.  Bone!  —  bone  for  bene !  Priscian  a  little 
scratched  ;  't  will  serve. 

Nathaniel.  Videsne  quis  venit? 

Holofernes.  Video,  et  gaudeo.  3° 

Enter  ARMADO,  MOTH,  and  COSTARD. 

Armado.  Chirrah !  \_ToMoth. 

Holofernes.  Quare  chirrah,  not  sirrah? 
Armado.  Men  of  peace,  well  encountered. 
Holofernes.  Most  military  sir,  salutation. 
Moth.  [Aside  to  Costard\  They  have  been  at  a  great  feast 
of  languages,  and  stolen  the  scraps. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I.  9I 

Costard.  O,  they  have  lived  long  on  the  alms-basket  of 
words.  I  marvel  thy  master  hath  not  eaten  thee  for  a  word; 
for  thou  art  not  so  long  by  the  head  as  honorificabilitudini- 
tatibus:  thou  art  easier  swallowed  than  a  flap-dragon.  40 

Moth.   Peace!  the  peal  begins. 

Armado.   \To  Holofernes]  Monsieur,  are  you  not  lettered? 

Moth.  Yes,  yes  ;  he  teaches  boys  the  horn-book.  What  is 
a,  b,  spelt  backward,  with  the  horn  on  his  head? 

Holofernes.  Ba,  pueritia,  with  a  horn  added. 

Moth.  Ba,  most  silly  sheep  with  a  horn  !  You  hear  his 
learning. 

Holofernes.  Quis,  quis,  thou  consonant? 

Moth.  The  third  of  the  five  vowels,  if  you  repeat  them  ; 
or  the  fifth,  if  I.  50 

Holofernes.   I  will  repeat  them, — a,  e,  i, — 

Moth.  The  sheep;  the  other  two  concludes  it,— o,  u. 

Armado.  Now,  by  the  salt  wave  of  the  Mediterraneum,  a 
sweet  touch,  a  quick  venue  of  wit !  snip,  snap,  quick  and 
home!  it  rejoiceth  my  intellect;  true  wit! 

Moth.  Offered  by  a  child  to  an  old  man  ;  which  is  wit-old. 

Holofernes.  What  is  the  figure  ?  what  is  the  figure  ? 

Moth.  Horns. 

Holofernes.  Thou  disputes!  like  an  infant;  go,  whip  thy 
gig.  60 

Moth.  Lend  me  your  horn  to  make  one,  and  I  will  whip 
about  your  infamy  circum  circa, — a  gig  of  a  cuckold's  horn. 

Costard.  An  I  had  but  one  penny  in  the  world,  thou  shouldst 
have  it  to  buy  gingerbread.  Hold,  there  is  the  very  remu- 
neration I  had  of  thy  master,  thou  halfpenny  purse  of  wit, 
thou  pigeon-egg  of  discretion.  O,  an  the  heavens  were  so 
pleased  that  thou  wert  but  my  bastard,  what  a  joyful  father 
wouldst  thou  make  me!  Go  to;  thou  hast  it  ad  dunghill,  at 
the  finger's  ends,  as  they  say.  69 

Holofernes.  O,  I  smell  false  Latin  ;  dunghill  for  unguein. 

Armado.   Arts-man,  preambulate;  we  will  be  singled  from 


92  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

the  barbarous.  Do  you  not  educate  youth  at  the  charge- 
house  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  ? 

Holofernes.  Or  mons,  the  hill. 

Armado.  At  your  sweet  pleasure,  for  the  mountain. 

Holofernes.  I  do,  sans  question. 

Armado.  Sir,  it  is  the  king's  most  sweet  pleasure  and  affec- 
tion to  congratulate  the  princess  at  her  pavilion  in  the  pos- 
teriors of  this  day,  which  the  rude  multitude  call  the  after- 
noon. 80 

Holofernes.  The  posterior  of  the  day,  most  generous  sir,  is 
liable,  congruent,  and  measurable  for  the  afternoon  ;  the  word 
is  well  culled,  choice,  sweet,  and  apt,  I  do  assure  you,  sir,  I 
do  assure. 

Armado.  Sir,  the  king  is  a  noble  gentleman,  and  my  famil- 
iar, I  do  assure ^e,  very  good  friend;  for  what  is  inward  be- 
tween us,  let  it  pass.  I  do  beseech  thee,  remember  thy 
courtesy, — I  beseech  thee,  apparel  thy  head; — and  among 
other  importunate  and  most  serious  designs,  and  of  great 
import  indeed,  too, — but  let  that  pass  : — for  I  must  tell  thee, 
it  will  please  his  grace,  by  the  world,  sometime  to  lean  upon 
my  poor  shoulder,  and  with  his  royal  finger,  thus,  dally  with 
my  excrement,  with  my  mustachio  ; — but,  sweet  heart,  let 
that  pass.  By  the  world,  I  recount  no  fable  :  some  certain 
special  honours  it  pleaseth  his  greatness  to  impart  to  Anna- 
do,  a  soldier,  a  man  of  travel,  that  hath  seen  the  world; — 
but  let  that  pass. — The  very  all  of  all  is, — but,  sweet  heart,  I 
do  implore  secrecy, — that  the  king  would  have  me  present 
the  princess,  sweet  chuck,  with  some  delightful  ostentation, 
or  show,  or  pageant,  or  antique,  or  firework.  Now,  under- 
standing that  the  curate  and  your  sweet  self  are  good  at 
such  eruptions  and  sudden  breaking  out  of  mirth,  as  it  were, 
I  have  acquainted  you  withal,  to  the  end  to  crave  your  as- 
sistance. 104 

Holofernes.  Sir,  you  shall  present  before  her  the  Nine  Wor- 
thies.— Sir  Nathaniel,  as  concerning  some  entertainment  of 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 


93 


time,  some  show  in  the  posterior  of  this  day,  to  be  rendered 
by  our  assistants,  at  the  king's  command,  and  this  most  gal- 
lant, illustrate,  and  learned  gentleman,  before  the  princess, — 
I  say  none  so  fit  as  to  present  the  Nine  Worthies.  no 

Nathaniel.  Where  will  you  find  men  worthy  enough  to  pre- 
sent them  ? 

Holofernes.  Joshua,  yourself;  myself  or  this  gallant  gentle- 
man, Judas  Maccabseus  ;  this  swain,  because  of  his  great 
limb  or  joint,  shall  pass  Pompey  the  Great;  the  page,  Her- 
cules,— 

Armado.  Pardon,  sir ;  error  :  he  is  not  quantity  enough 
for  that  Worthy's  thumb;  he  is  not  so  big  as  the  end  of  his 
club.  ng 

Holofernes.  Shall  I  have  audience  ?  he  shall  present  Her- 
cules in  minority:  his  enter  and  exit  shall  be  strangling  a 
snake  ;  and  I  will  have  an  apology  for  that  purpose. 

Moth.  An  excellent  device  !  so,  if  any  of  the  audience  hiss, 
you  may  cry  '  Well  done,  Hercules !  now  thou  crushest  the 
snake  !'  that  is  the  way  to  make  an  offence  gracious,  though 
few  have  the  grace  to  do  it. 

Armado.  For  the  rest  of  the  Worthies  ? — 

Holofernes.   I  will  play  three  myself. 

Moth.  Thrice  worthy  gentleman  ! 

Armado.   Shall  I  tell  you  a  thing?  130 

Holofernes.  We  attend. 

Armado.  We  will  have,  if  this  fadge  not,  an  antique.  I 
beseech  you,  follow. 

Holofernes.  Via  ! — Goodman  Dull,  thou  hast  spoken  no 
word  all  this  while. 

Dull.  £Ior  understood  none  neither,  sir. 

Holofernes.  Allons !  we  will  employ  thee. 

Dull.   I  '11  make  one  in  a  dance,  or  so  ;  or  I  wil)  play 
On  the  tabor  to  the  Worthies,  and  let  them  dance  the  hay. 

Holofernes.  Most  dull,  honest  Dull ! — To  our  sport,  away  ! 

{Exeunt, 


94 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


SCENE  II.     The  Same. 

Enter  the  PRINCESS,  KATHERINE,  ROSALINE,  and  MARIA. 

Princess.  Sweet  hearts,  we  shall  be  rich  ere  we  depart, 
If  fairings  come  thus  plentifully  in. 
A  lady  wall'd  about  with  diamonds  ! — 
Look  you  what  I  have  from  the  loving  king. 

Rosaline.   Madame,  came  nothing  else  along  with  that? 

Princess.  Nothing  but  this!  yes,  as  much  love  in  rhyme 
As  would  be  cramm'd  up  in  a  sheet  of  paper, 
Writ  on  both  sides  the  leaf,  margent  and  all, 
That  he  was  fain  to  seal  on  Cupid's  name. 

Rosaline.  That  was  the  way  to  make  his  godhead  wax,     10 
For  he  hath  been  five  thousand  years  a  boy. 

Katherine.  Ay,  and  a  shrewd,  unhappy  gallows  too. 

Rosaline.  You  '11  ne'er  be  friends  with  him;  he  kill'd  your 
sister. 

Katherine.  He  made  her  melancholy,  sad,  and  heavy; 
And  so  she  died.     Had  she  been  light,  like  you, 
Of  such  a  merry,  nimble,  stirring  spirit, 
She  might  ha'  been  a  grandam  ere  she  died; 
And  so  may  you,  for  a  light  heart  lives  long. 

Rosaline.  What  's  your  dark  meaning,  mouse,  of  this  light 
word? 

Katherine.   A  light  condition  in  a  beauty  dark.  20 

Rosaline.  We  need  more  light  to  find  your  meaning  out. 

Katherine.  You  '11  mar  the  light  by  taking  it  in  snuff; 
Therefore  I  '11  darkly  end  the  argument. 

Rosaline.  Look,  what  you  do,  you  do  it  still  i'  the  dark. 

Katherine.   So  do  not  you,  for  you  are  a  light  wench. 

Rosaline.  Indeed  I  weigh  not  you,  and  therefore  light. 

Katherine.  You  weigh  me  not?    O,  that 's  you  care  not  for 
me. 

Rosaline.  Great  reason;  for  past  cure  is  still  past  care. 

Princess.  Well  bandied  both;  a  set  of  wit  well  play'd. — • 


ACT   V.    SCENE   //.  95 

But,  Rosaline,  you  have  a  favour,  too.  3. 

Who  sent  it?  and  what  is  it? 

Rosaline.  I  would  you  knew. 

An  if  my  face  were  but  as  fair  as  yours, 
My  favour  were  as  great ;  be  witness  this. 
Nay,  I  have  verses  too,  I  thank  Biron  : 
The  numbers  true  ;  and,  were  the  numbering  too, 
I  were  the  fairest  goddess  on  the  ground. 
I  am  compar'd  to  twenty  thousand  fairs. 
O,  he  hath  drawn  my  picture  in  his  letter ! 

Princess.   Any  thing  like  ? 

Rosaline.  Much  in  the  letters,  nothing  in  the  praise.         40 

Princess.   Beauteous  as  ink ;  a  good  conclusion. 

Katherine.  Fair  as  a  text  B  in  a  copy-book. 

Rosaline.   Ware  pencils,  ho  !  let  me  not  die  your  debtor, 
My  red  dominical,  my  golden  letter! 
O  that  your  face  were  not  so  full  of  O's  ! 

Katherine.    A  pox  of  that  jest !  and  beshrew  all  shrows. 

Princess.  But,  Katherine,  what  was  sent  to  you  from  fair 
Dumain? 

Katherine.  Madam,  this  glove. 

Princess.  Did  he  not  send  you  twain  ? 

Katherine.  Yes,  madam,  and  moreover 

Some  thousand  verses  of  a  faithful  lover, —  30 

A  huge  translation  of  hypocrisy, 
Vilely  compil'd,  profound  simplicity. 

Maria.  This  and  these  pearls  to  me  sent  Longaville  ; 
The  letter  is  too  long  by  half  a  mile. 

Princess.  I  think  no  less.     Dost  thou  not  wish  in  heart 
The  chain  were  longer  and  the  letter  short? 

Maria.   Ay,  or  I  would  these  hands  might  never  part. 

Princess.  We  are  wise  girls  to  mock  our  lovers  so. 

Rosaline.   They   are    worse    fools    to    purchase    mocking 

so. 
That  same  Biron  I  '11  torture  ere  I  go.  °* 


96  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

0  that  I  knew  he  were  but  in  by  the  week! 
How  I  would  make  him  fawn  and  beg  and  seek, 
And  wait  the  season,  and  observe  the  times, 
And  spend  his  prodigal  wits  in  bootless  rhymes, 
And  shape  his  service  wholly  to  my  hests, 

And  make  him  proud  to  make  me  proud  that  jests  ! 
So  potent-like  would  I  o'ersway  his  state 
That  he  should  be  my  fool  and  I  his  fate. 

Princess.  None  are  so  surely  caught,  when  they  are  catch'd, 
As  wit  turn'd  fool;  folly,  in  wisdom  hatch'd,  7, 

Hath  wisdom's  warrant  and  the  help  of  school, 
And  wit's  own  grace  to  grace  a  learned  fool. 

Rosaline.  The  blood  of  youth  burns  not  with  such  excess 
As  gravity's  revolt  to  wantonness. 

Maria.   Folly  in  fools  bears  not  so  strong  a  note 
As  foolery  in  the  wise,  when  wit  doth  dote  ; 
Since  all  the  power  thereof  it  doth  apply 
To  prove,  by  wit,  worth  in  simplicity. 

Princess.   Here  comes  Boyet,  and  mirth  is  in  his  face.       -K 

Enter  BOYET. 

Boyet.  O,  I  am  stabb'd  with  laughter !    Where  's  her  grace  ? 

Princess.  Thy  news,  Boyet? 

Boyet.  Prepare,  madam,  prepare  !-- 

Arm,  wenches,  arm!  encounters  mounted  are 
Against  your  peace.     Love  doth  approach  disguis'd, 
Armed  in  arguments  ;  you  Ml  be  surpris'd. 
Muster  your  wits,  stand  in  your  own  defence  ; 
Or  hide  your  heads  like  cowards,  and  fly  hence. 

Princess.   Saint  Denis  to  Saint  Cupid!     What  are  they 
That  charge  their  breath  against  us?  say,  scout,  say. 

Boyet.  Under  the  cool  shade  of  a  sycamore 

1  thought  to  close  mine  eyes  some  half  an  hour,  90 
When,  lo !  to  interrupt  my  purpos'd  rest, 

Toward  that  shade  I  might  behold  addrest 


ACT   V.    SCENE  IT. 


97 


The  king  and  his  companions  ;  warily 

I  stole  into  a  neighbour  thicket  by, 

And  overheard  what  you  shall  overhear, — 

That,  by  and  by,  disguis'd  they  will  be  here. 

Their  herald  is  a  pretty  knavish  page, 

That  well  by  heart  hath  conn'd  his  embassage. 

Action  and  accent  did  they  teach  him  there, — 

'Thus  must  thou  speak/  and  'thus  thy  body  bear  :y  ^ 

And  ever  and  anon  they  made  a  doubt 

Presence  majestical  would  put  him  out: 

'  For,'  quoth  the  king,  '  an  angel  shalt  thou  see  ; 

Yet  fear  not  thou,  but  speak  audaciously.' 

The  boy  replied,  'An  angel  is  not  evil ; 

I  should  have  fear'd  her  had  she  been  a  devil.' 

With  that,  all  laugh'd  and  clapp'd  him  on  the  shoulder, 

Making  the  bold  wag  by  their  praises  bolder. 

One  rubb'd  his  elbow  thus,  and  fleer'd,  and  swore 

A  better  speech  was  never  spoke  before  ;  u 

Another,  with  his  finger  and  his  thumb, 

Cried,  '  Via  !  we  will  do  't,  come  what  will  come  ;' 

The  third  he  caper'd,  and  cried, '  All  goes  well ;' 

The  fourth  turn'd  on  the  toe,  and  down  he  fell. 

With  that,  they  all  did  tumble  on  the  ground, 

With  such  a  zealous  laughter,  so  profound, 

That  in  this  spleen  ridiculous  appears, 

To  check  their  folly,  passion's  solemn  tears. 

Princess.   But  what,  but  what,  come  they  to  visit  us : 
Boyet.  They  do,  they  do  ;  and  are  apparell'd  thus,  u 

Like  Muscovites  or  Russians,  as  I  guess. 

Their  purpose  is  to  parle,  to  court,  and  dance  ; 

And  every  one  his  love-feat  will  advance 

Unto  his  several  mistress,  which  they  '11  know 

By  favours  several  which  they  did  bestow. 

Princess.  And  will  they  so?  the  gallants  shall  be  task'd  ; 

For,  ladies,  we  will  every  one  be  mask'd, 

G 


9g  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

And  not  a  man  of  them  shall  have  the  grace, 

Despite  of  suit,  to  see  a  lady's  face. — 

Hold,  Rosaline,  this  favour  thou  shalt  wear,  130 

And  then  the  king  will  court  thee  for  his  dear; 

Hold,  take  thou  this,  my  sweet,  and  give  me  thine, 

So  shall  Biron  take  me  for  Rosaline. — 

And  change  you  favours  too  ;  so  shall  your  loves 

Woo  contrary,  deceiv'd  by  these  removes, 

Rosaline.  Come  on,  then ;  wear  the  favours  most  in  sight. 

Katherine.  But  in  this  changing  what  is  your  intent? 

Princess.  The  effect  of  my  intent  is  to  cross  theirs  ; 
They  do  it  but  in  mocking  merriment, 

And  mock  for  mock  is  only  my  intent.  140 

Their  several  counsels  they  unbosom  shall 
To  loves  mistook,  and  so  be  mock'd  withal 
Upon  the  next  occasion  that  we  meet, 
With  visages  display'd,  to  talk  and  greet. 

Rosaline.  But  shall  we  dance,  if  they  desire  us  to  't? 

Princess.  No,  to  the  death,  we  will  not  move  a  foot; 
Nor  to  their  penn'd  speech  render  we  no  grace, 
But  while  't  is  spoke  each  turn  away  her  face. 

Boyet.  Why,  that  contempt  will  kill  the  speaker's  heart, 
And  quite  divorce  his  memory  from  his  part.  150 

Princess.  Therefore  I  do  it ;  and  I  make  no  doubt 
The  rest  will  ne'er  come  in,  if  he  be  out. 
There  's  no  such  sport  as  sport  by  sport  o'erthrown, 
To  make  theirs  ours,  and  ours  none  but  our  own ; 
So  shall  we  stay,  mocking  intended  game, 
And  they,  well  mock'd,  depart  away  with  shame. 

[  Trumpets  sound  within. 

Boyet.  The    trumpet    sounds :    be    mask'd ;    the    maskers 
come.  I  The  Ladies  mask 


ACT   V.    SCENE  If. 


99 


Enter  Blackamoors  with  music ;   MOTH  ;  the  KING,  BIRON, 

LONGAVILLE,  and  DUMAIN,  in  Russian  habits,  and  masked. 

Moth.  All  hail,  the  richest  beauties  on  the  earth  ! 

Boyet.  Beauties  no  richer  than  rich  taffeta. 

Moth.   A  holy  parcel  of  the  fairest  dames  160 

[  The  ladies  turn  their  backs  to  him. 
That  ever  turn'd  their — backs — to  mortal  views  ! 

Biron.  [Aside  to  Moth\  Their  eyes,  villain,  their  eyes. 

Moth.    That  ever  turn'd  their  eyes  to  mortal  views ! — 
Out— 

Boyet.  True;  out  indeed. 

Moth.    Out  of  your  favours,  heavenly  spirits,  vouchsafe       »    , 
Not  to  behold — 

Biron.  [Aside  to  Mot/i]  Once  to  behold,  rogue. 

Moth.   Once  to  behold  with  your  sun-beamed  eyes, 
with  your  sun-beamed  eyes —  170 

Boyet.  They  will  not  answer  to  that  epithet; 
You  were  best  call  it  daughter-beamed  eyes. 

Moth.  They  do  not  mark  me,  and  that  brings  me  out. 

Biron.  Is  this  your  perfectness?  be  gone,  you  rogue! 

[Exit  Moth. 

Rosaline.  What  would  these  strangers?  know  their  minds, 

Boyet. 

If  they  do  speak  our  language,  't  is  our  will 
That  some  plain  man  recount  their  purposes. 
Know  what  they  would. 

Boyet.  What  would  you  with  the  princess  ? 

Biron.  Nothing  but  peace  and  gentle  visitation.  180 

Rosaline.  What  would  they,  say  they? 

Boyet.  Nothing  but  peace  and  gentle  visitation. 

Rosaline.  Why,  that  they  have ;  and  bid  them  so  be  gone. 

Boyet.  She  says,  you  have  it,  and  you  may  be  gone. 

King.  Say  to  her,  we  have  measur'd  many  miles 
To  tread  a  measure  with  her  on  this  grass. 


I00  LOVES  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Boyet.  They  say,  that  they  have  measur'd  many  a  mile 
To  tread  a  measure  with  you  on  this  grass. 

Rosaline.  It  is  not  so.     Ask  them  how  many  inches 
Is  in  one  mile  ;  if  they  have  measur'd  many,  190 

The  measure  then  of  one  is  easily  told. 

Boyet.   If  to  come  hither  you  have  measur'd  miles, 
And  many  miles,  the  princess  bids  you  tell 
How  many  inches  doth  fill  up  one  mile. 

Biron.  Tell  her,  we  measure  them  by  weary  steps. 

Boyet.  She  hears  herself. 

Rosaline.  How  many  weary  steps, 

Of  many  weary  miles  you  have  o'ergone, 
Are  number'd  in  the  travel  of  one  mile  ? 

Biron.   We  number  nothing  that  we  spend  for  you; 
Our  duty  is  so  rich,  so  infinite,  200 

That  we  may  do  it  still  without  accompt. 
Vouchsafe  to  show  the  sunshine  of  your  face, 
That  we,  like  savages,  may  worship  it. 

Rosaline.  My  face  is  but  a  moon,  and  clouded  too. 

King.  Blessed  are  clouds,  to  do  as  such  clouds  do ! 
j    Vouchsafe,  bright  moon, — and  these  thy  stars, — to  shine, 
Those  clouds  remov'd,  upon  our  watery  eyne. 

Rosaline.  O  vain  petitioner!  beg  a  greater  matter; 
Thou  now  request'st  but  moonshine  in  the  water. 

King.  Then,  in  our  measure  vouchsafe  but  one  change. 
Thou  bidst  me  beg;  this  begging  is  not  strange.  2*1 

Rosaline.  Play,  music,  then  ! — Nay,  you  must  do  it  soon. 

\_Music  plays. 
Not  yet, — no  dance! — Thus  change  I  like  the  moon. 

King.  Will  you  not  dance  ?    How  come  you  thus  estrang'd? 

Rosaline.  You  took  the  moon  at  full,  but  now  she  's  chang'd. 

King.  Yet  still  she  is  the  moon,  and  I  the  man. 
The  music  plays;  vouchsafe  some  motion  to  it. 

Rosaline.  Our  ears  vouchsafe  it. 

King.  But  your  legs  should  do  it. 


ACT  F.     SCENE  II.  IOI 

Rosaline.   Since   you    are    strangers    and   come    here    by 

chance, 
We  '11  not  be  nice  ;  take  hands. — We  will  not  dance.          220 

King.  Why  take  we  hands,  then  ? 

Rosaline.  Only  to  part  friends. 

Curtsy,  sweet  hearts;  and  so  the  measure  ends. 

King.   More  measure  of  this  measure;  be  not  nice. 

Rosaline.  We  can  afford  no  more  at  such  a  price. 

King.   Prize  you  yourselves;  what  buys  your  company? 

Rosaline.  Your  absence  only 

King.  That  can  never  be. 

Rosaline.  Then  cannot  we  be  bought:  and  so,  adieu; 
Twice  to  your  visor,  and  half  once  to  you. 

King.   If  you  deny  to  dance,  let 's  hold  more  chat.  229 

Rosaline.   In  private,  then. 

King.  I  am  best  pleas'd  with  that. 

\They  converse  apart. 

Biron.  White-handed  mistress,  one  sweet  word  with  thee. 

Princess.   Honey,  and  milk,  and  sugar;  there  is  three. 

Biron.  Nay  then,  two  treys,  and  if  you  grow  so  nice, 
Metheglin,  wort,  and  malmsey.     Well  run,  dice ! 
There 's  half-a-dozen  sweets. 

Princess.  Seventh  sweet,  adieu. 

Since  you  can  cog,  I  '11  play  no  more  with  you. 

Biron.  One  word  in  secret. 

Princess.  Let  it  not  be  sweet. 

Biron.  Thou  griev'st  my  gall. 

Princess.  Gall !  bitter. 

Biron.  Therefore  meet. 

\They  converse  apart. 

Dumain.  Will  you  vouchsafe  with  me  to  change  a  word? 

Maria.  Name  it. 

Dumain.  Fair  lady, — 

Maria.  Say  you  so?   .Fair  lord, 

Take  that  for  your  fair  lady. 


102  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Dumain.  Please  it  you,  241 

As  much  in  private,  and  I  '11  bid  adieu. 

\They  converse  apart. 
Katherine.  What,  was  your  vizard  made  without  a  tongue  ? 

Longaville.   I  know  the  reason,  lady,  why  you  ask. 
Katherine.  O,  for  your  reason  !  quickly,  sir;  I  long. 

Longaville.  You  have  a  double  tongue  within  your  mask, 
And  would  afford  my  speechless  vizard  half. 

Katherine.  Veal,  quoth  the  Dutchman. — Is  not  veal  a  calf? 

Longaville.  A  calf,  fair  lady! 

Katherine.  No,  a  fair  lord  calf. 

Longaville.  Let 's  part  the  word. 

Katherine.  No,  I  '11  not  be  your  half. 

Take  all,  and  wean  it ;  it  may  prove  an  ox.  251 

Longaville.  Look,  how  you  butt  yourself  in   these  sharp 

mocks ! 
Will  you  give  horns,  chaste  lady?  do  not  so. 

Katherine.  Then  die  a  calf,  before  your  horns  do  grow. 

Longaville.  One  word  in  private  with  you,  ere  I  die. 

Katherine.   Bleat  softly  then  ;  the  butcher  hears  you  cry. 

[  They  converse  apart. 
Boyet.  The  tongues  of  mocking  wenches  are  as  keen 

As  is  the  razor's  edge  invisible, 
Cutting  a  smaller  hair  than  may  be  seen; 

Above  the  sense  of  sense,  so  sensible  260 

Seemeth  their  conference;  their  conceits  have  wings 
Fleeter  than  arrows,  bullets,  wind,  thought,  swifter  things. 

Rosaline.  Not  one  word  more,  my  maids;  break  off,  break 
off. 

Biron.  By  heaven,  all  dry-beaten  with  pure  scoff! 

King.   Farewell,  mad  wenches;  you  have  simple  wits. 

Princess.  Twenty  adieus,  my  frozen  Muscovits. — 

\Exeunt  King,  Lords,  and  Blackamoors. 
Are  these  the  breed  of  wits  so  wonder'd  at? 

Boyet.  Tapers  they  are,  with  your  sweet  breaths  puff'd  out. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II. 


103 


Rosaline.  Well-liking  wits  they  have;  gross,  gross;  fat,  fat. 

Princess.  O  poverty  in  wit,  kingly-poor  flout !  270 

Will  they  not,  think  you,  hang  themselves  to-night? 

Or  ever,  but  in  vizards,  show  their  faces? 
This  pert  Biron  was  out  of  countenance  quite. 

Rosaline.  O,  they  were  all  in  lamentable  cases ! 
The  king  was  weeping-ripe  for  a  good  word. 

Princess.   Biron  did  swear  himself  out  of  all  suit. 
Maria.  Dumain  was  at  my  service,  and  his  sword: 

No  point,  quoth  I ;  my  servant  straight  was  mute. 
Katherine.  Lord  Longaville  said  I  came  o'er  his  heart: 

And  trow  you  what  he  calTd  me? 

Princess.  Qualm,  perhaps.       280 

Katherine.  Yes,  in  good  faith. 

Princess.  Go,  sickness  as  thou  art! 

Rosaline.  Well,  better  wits  have  worn  plain  statute-caps. 
But  will  you  hear?  the  king  is  my  love  sworn. 

Princess.   And  quick  Biron  hath  plighted  faith  to  me. 
Kaiherine.   And  Longaville  was  for  my  service  born. 

Maria.  Dumain  is  mine,  as  sure  as  bark  on  tree. 

Boyet.  Madam,  and  pretty  mistresses,  give  ear. 
Immediately  they  will  again  be  here 
In  their  own  shapes ;  for  it  can  never  be 
They  will  digest  this  harsh  indignity.  290 

Princess.  Will  they  return  ? 

Boyet.  They  will,  they  will,  God  knows, 
And  leap  for  joy,  though  they  are  lame  with  blows. 
Therefore  change  favours;  and,  when  they  repair, 
Blow  like  sweet  roses  in  this  summer  air. 

Princess.   How  blow  ?  how  blow  ?  speak  to  be  understood. 

Boyet.   Fair  ladies  mask'd  are  roses  in  their  bud; 
Dismask'cl,  their  damask  sweet  commixture  shown, 
Are  angels  vailing  clouds,  or  roses  blown. 

Princess.  A  vaunt,  perplexity !     What  shall  we  do,  300 

If  they  return  in  their  own  shapes  to  woo? 


104 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 


Rosaline.  Good  madam,  if  by  me  you  Ml  be  advis'd, 

Let 's  mock  them  still,  as  well  known  as  clisguis'd. 

Let  us  complain  to  them  what  fools  were  here, 

Disguis'd  like  Muscovites,  in  shapeless  gear; 

And  wonder  what  they  were,  and  to  what  end 

Their  shallow  shows,  and  prologue  vilely  penn'd, 

And  their  rough  carriage  so  ridiculous, 

Should  be  presented  at  our  tent  to  us. 

Boyet.   Ladies,  withdraw ;  the  gallants  are  at  hand.          3™ 
Princess.  Whip  to  our  tents,  as  roes  run  over  land. 

\Exeunt  Princess,  Rosaline,  Katherine,  and  Maria. 

Re-enter  the  KING,  BIRON,  LONGAVILLE  and  DUMAIN,  in  their 
proper  habits. 

King.  Fair  sir,  God  save  you!     Where  's  the  princess? 

Boyet.  Gone  to  her  tent.     Please  it  your  majesty 
Command  me  any  service  to  her  thither? 

King.  That  she  vouchsafe  me  audience  for  one  word. 

Boyet.   I  will ;  artd  so  will  she,  I  know,  my  lord.         \Exit. 

Biron.  This  fellow  pecks  up  wit  as  pigeons  pease, 
And  utters  it  again  when  God  cloth  please. 
He  is  wit's  pedler,  and  retails  his  wares 
At  wakes  and  wassails,  meetings,  markets,  fairs:  32° 

And  we  that  sell  by  gross,  the  Lord  doth  know, 
Have  not  the  grace  to  grace  it  with  such  show. 
This  gallant  pins  the  wenches  on  his  sleeve; 
Had  he  been  Adam,  he  had  tempted  Eve. 
He  can  carve  too,  and  lisp :  why,  this  is  he 
That  kiss'd  his  hand  away  in  courtesy; 
This  is  the  ape  of  form,  monsieur  the  nice, 
That,  when  he  plays  at  tables,  chicles  the  dice 
In  honourable  terms;  nay,  he  can  sing 

A  mean  most  meanly;  and  in  ushering  ?*> 

Mend  him  who  can:  the  ladies  call  him  sweet, 
The  stairs,  as  he  treads  on  them,  kiss  his  feet. 


ACT  V.     SCENE   II.  105 

This  is  the  flower  that  smiles  on  every  one, 

To  show  his  teeth  as  white  as  whale's  bone;  ^&    /  *• 

And  consciences  that  will  not  die  in  debt 

Pay  him  the  due  of  honey-tongu'd  Boyet. 

King.   A  blister  on  his  sweet  tongue,  with  my  heart, 
That  put  Armado's  page  out  of  his  part! 

Biron.  See  where  it  comes ! — Behaviour,  what  wert  thou 
Till  this  man  show'd  thee?  and  what  art  thou  now?  340 

Re-enter  the  PRINCESS,  ushered  by  BOYET;  ROSALINE,  MARIA, 
and  KATHERINE. 

King.  All  hail,  sweet  madam,  and  fair  time  of  day! 

Princess.  Fair  in  all  hail  is  foul,  as  I  conceive. 
King.  Construe  my  speeches  better,  if  you  may. 

Princess.  Then  wish  me  better ;  I  will  give  you  leave. 
King.  We  came  to  visit  you.  and  purpose  now 

To  lead  you  to  our  court ;  vouchsafe  it  then. 
Princess.  This  field  shall  hold  me,  and  so  hold  your  vow; 

Nor  God,  nor  I,  delights  in  perjur'd  men. 
King.  Rebuke  me  not  for  that  which  you  provoke; 

The  virtue  of  your  eye  must  break  my  oath.  350 

Princess.  You  nickname  virtue  ;  vice  you  should  have  spoke, 

For  virtue's  office  never  breaks  men's  troth. 
Now  by  my  maiden  honour,  yet  as  pure 

As  the  unsullied  lily,  I  protest, 
A  world  of  torments  though  I  should  endure, 

I  would  not  yield  to  be  your  house's  guest; 
So  much  I  hate  a  breaking  cause  to  be 
Of  heavenly  oaths,  vovv'd  with  integrity. 
King.  O,  you  have  liv'd  in  desolation  here, 

Unseen,  unvisited,  much  to  our  shame.  360 

Princess.  Not  so,  my  lord  ;  it  is  not  so,  I  swear  ; 

We  have  had  pastimes  here  and  pleasant  game. 
A  mess  of  Russians  left  us  but  of  late. 

King.  How,  madam !     Russians  ! 


lo6  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Princess.  Ay,  in  truth,  my  lord ; 

Trim  gallants,  full  of  courtship  and  of  state. 

Rosaline.  Madam,  speak  true.  —  It  is  not  so,  my  lord; 
My  lady,  to  the  manner  of  the  days, 
In  courtesy  gives  undeserving  praise. 
We  four  indeed  confronted  were  with  four 
In  Russian  habit:  here  they  stay'd  an  hour,  17c 

And  talk'cl  apace;  and  in  that  hour,  my  lord, 
They  did  not  bless  us  with  one  happy  word. 
I  dare  not  call  them  fools ;  but  this  I  think, 
When  they  are  thirsty,  fools  would  fain  have  drink. 

Biron.  This  jest  is  dry  to  me. — Fair  gentle  sweet, 
Your  wit  makes  wise  things  foolish :  when  we  greet, 
With  eyes  best  seeing,  heaven's  fiery  eye, 
By  light  we  lose  light;  your  capacity 
Is  of  that  nature  that  to  your  huge  store 
Wise  things  seem  foolish  and  rich  things  but  poor.  380 

Rosaline.  This  proves  you  wise  and  rich,  for  in  my  eye, — 

Biron.   I  am  a  fool,  and  full  of  poverty. 

Rosaline.  But  that  you  take  what  cloth  to  you  belong, 
It  were  a  fault  to  snatrh  words  from  my  tongue. 

Biron.  O,  I  am  yours,  and  all  that  I  possess  ! 

Rosaline.   All  the  fool  mine? 

Biron.  I  cannot  give  you  less. 

Rosaline.  Which  of  the  vizards  was  it  that  you  wore? 

Biron.  Where?  when?  what  vizard?  why  demand  you  this? 

Rosaline.  There,  then,  that  vizard  ;  that  superfluous  case 
That  hid  the  worse  and  show'd  the  better  face.  390 

King.   [Aside  to  Dumain~\   We  are  descried  ;  they  '11  mock 
us  now  downright. 

Dumain.  [Aside  to  King\  Let  us  confess  and  turn  it  to  a  jest. 

Princess.   Amaz'd,  my  lord?  why  looks  your  highness  sad? 

Rosaline.   Help,  hold  his  brows  !  he  '11  swoon  ! — Why  look 

you  pale  ? — 
Sea-sick,  I  think,  coming  from  Muscovy. 


ACT   V.    SCENE  II. 


107 


Biron.  Thus  pour  the  stars  down  plagues  for  perjury. 

Can  any  face  of  brass  hold  longer  out? — 
Here  stand  I,  lady:  dart  thy  skill  at  me; 

Bruise  me  with  scorn,  confound  me  with  a  flout; 
Thrust  thy  sharp  wit  quite  through  my  ignorance ;  400 

Cut  me  to  pieces  with  thy  keen  conceit ; 
And  I  will  wish  thee  never  more  to  dance, 

Nor  never  more  in  Russian  habit  wait. 
O,  never  will  I  trust  to  speeches  penn'd, 

Nor  to  the  motion  of  a  schoolboy's  tongue, 
Nor  never  come  in  vizard  to  my  friend, 

Nor  woo  in  rhyme,  like  a  blind  harper's  song ! 
Taffeta  phrases,  silken  terms  precise, 

Three-piPd  hyperboles,  spruce  affectation, 
Figures  pedantical — these  summer-flies  410 

Have  blown  me  full  of  maggot  ostentation. 
I  do  forswear  them ;  and  I  here  protest, 

By  this  white  glove, — how  white  the  hand,  God  knows  ! — 
Henceforth  my  wooing  mind  shall  be  express'd 

In  russet  yeas  and  honest  kersey  noes  : 
And  to  begin,  wench, — so  God  help  me,  la  ! — 
My  love  to  thee  is  sound,  sans  crack  or  flaw. 

Rosaline.  Sans  sans,  I  pray  you. 

Biron.  Yet  I  have  a  trick 

Of  the  old  rage:  bear  with  me,  I  am  sick; 
I  '11  leave  it  by  degrees.     Soft,  let  us  see:  42° 

Write, '  Lord  have  mercy  on  us  '  on  those  three  ; 
They  are  infected;  in  their  hearts  it  lies  ; 
They  have  the  plague,  and  caught  it  of  your  eyes  ; 
These  lords  are  visited  ;  you  are  not  free, 
For  the  Lord's  tokens  on  you  do  I  see. 

Princess.  No,  they  are  free  that  gave  these  tokens  to  us. 

Biron.  Our  states  are  forfeit;  seek  not  to  undo  us. 

Rosaline.   It  is  not  so  ;  for  how  can  this  be  true, 
That  you  stand  forfeit,  being  those  that  sue? 


lo8  LOME'S  LABOUK  'S  LOST. 

Biron.  Peace  !  for  I  will  not  have  to  do  with  you.  430 

Rosaline,  Nor  shall  not,  if  I  do  as  I  intend. 

Biron.  Speak  for  yourselves  ;  my  wit  is  at  an  end. 

King.  Teach  us,  sweet  madam,  for  our  rude  transgression 
Some  fair  excuse. 

Princess.  The  fairest  is  confession. 

Were  not  you  here  but  even  now  disguis'd? 

King.  Madam,  I  was. 

Princess.  And  were  you  well  advis'd? 

King.  I  was,  fair  madam. 

Princess.  When  you  then  were  here, 

What  did  you  whisper  in  your  lady's  ear  ? 

King.  That  more  than  all  the  world  I  did  respect  her. 

Princess.  When  she  shall  challenge  this,  you  will  reject  her. 

King.  Upon  mine  honour,  no. 

Princess.  Peace,  peace !  forbear  ; 

Your  oath  once  broke,  you  force  not  to  forswear.  442 

King.   Despise  me  when  I  break  this  oath  of  mine. 

Princess.   I  will;  and  therefore  keep  it. — Rosaline, 
What  did  the  Russian  whisper  in  your  ear? 

Rosaline.  Madam,  he  swore  that  he  did  hold  me  dear 
As  precious  eyesight,  and  did  value  me 
Above  this  world  ;  adding  thereto  moreover 
That  he  would  wed  me,  or  else  die  my  lover. 

Princess.  God  give  thee  joy  of  him!  the  noble  lord          450 
Most  honourably  doth  uphold  his  word. 

King.  What  mean  you,  madam?  by  my  life,  my  troth, 
I  never  swore  this  lady  such  an  oath. 

Rosaline.  By  heaven,  you  did ;  and  to  confirm  it  plain, 
You  gave  me  this:  but  take  it,  sir,  again. 

King.   My  faith  and  this  the  princess  I  did  give; 
I  knew  her  by  this  jewel  on  her  sleeve. 

Princess.  Pardon  me,  sir,  this  jewel  did  she  wear; 
And  Lord  Biron,  I  thank  him,  is  my  dear. — 
What,  will  you  have  me,  or  your  pearl  again?  460 


ACT   V.     SCENE  II.  109 

Biron.  Neither  of  either;  I  remit  both  twain. — 
1  see  the  trick  on  't;  here  was  a  consent, 
Knowing  aforehand  of  our  merriment, 
To  dash  it  like  a  Christmas  comedy. 
Some  carry-tale,  some  please-man,  some  slight  zany, 
Some  mumble-news,  some  trencher-knight,  some  Dick, 
That  smiles  his  cheek  in  years  and  knows  the  trick 
To  make  my  lady  laugh  when  she  's  dispos'd, 
Told  our  intents  before ;  which  once  disclos'd, 
The  ladies  did  change  favours,  and  then  we,  470 

Following  the  signs,  woo'd  but  the  sign  of  she. 
Now,  to  our  perjury  to  add  more  terror, 
We  are  again  forsworn, — in  will,  and  error. 
Much  upon  this  it  is. — And  might  not  you  \To  Boyet. 

Forestall  our  sport,  to  make  us  thus  untrue? 
Do  not  you  know  my  lady's  foot  by  the  squire, 

And  laugh  upon  the  apple  of  her  eye  ? 
And  stand  between  her  back,  sir,  and  the  fire, 

Holding  a  trencher,  jesting  merrily? 

You  put  our  page  out :  go,  you  are  allow'd ;  480 

Die  when  you  will,  a  smock  shall  be  your  shroud. 
You  leer  upon  me,  do  you  ?  there  's  an  eye 
Wounds  like  a  leaden  sword. 

Boyet.  Full  merrily 

Hath  this  brave  manage,  this  career,  been  run. 

Biron.  Lo,  he  is  tilting  straight!    Peace!    I  have  done.— 

Enter  COSTARD. 

Welcome,  pure  wit!  thou  partest  a  fair  fray. 

Costard.  O  Lord,  sir,  they  would  know 
Whether  the  three  Worthies  shall  come  in  or  no. 

Biron.  What,  are  there  but  three? 

Costard.  No,  sir  ;  but  it  is  vara  fine, 

For  every  one  pursents  three. 

Biron.  And  three  times  thrice  is  nine. 


HO  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Costard.   Not  so,  sir ;  under  correction,  sir ;  I  hope  it  is 

not  so.  491 

You  cannot  beg  us,  sir,  I  can  assure  you,  sir  ;  we  know  what 

we  know: 
I  hope,  sir,  three  times  thrice,  sir, — 

Biron.  Is  not  nine. 

Costard.  Under  correction,  sir,  we  know  whereuntil  it  cloth 
amount. 

Biron.   By  Jove,  I  always  took  three  threes  for  nine. 

Costard.  O  Lord,  sir,  it  were  pity  you  should  get  your  liv- 
ing by  reckoning,  sir. 

Biron.   How  much  is  it?  500 

Costard.  O  Lord,  sir,  the  parties  themselves,  the  actors, 
sir,  will  show  whereuntil  it  doth  amount;  for  mine  own  part, 
I  am,  as  they  say,  but  to  pursent  one  man, — e'en  one  poor 
man— Pompion  the  Great,  sir. 

Biron.  Art  thou  one  of  the  Worthies  ? 

Costard.  It  pleased  them  to  think  me  worthy  of  Pompion 
the  Great ;  for  mine  own  part,  I  know  not  the  degree  of  the 
Worthy,  but  I  am  to  stand  for  him. 

Biron.  Go,  bid  them  prepare.  s°9 

Costard.  We  will  turn  it  finely  off,  sir  ;  we  will  take  some 
care.  [Exit. 

King.  Biron,  they  will  shame  us  ;  let  them  not  approach. 

Biron.  We  are  shame-proof,  my  lord;  and  't  is  some  policy 
To  have  one  show  worse  than  the  king's  and  his  company. 

King.  I  say  they  shall  not  come. 

Princess.  Nay,  my  good  lord,  let  me  o'errule  you  now; 
That  sport  best  pleases  that  doth  least  know  how. 
Where  zeal  strives  to  content,  and  the  contents  ^  * 
Dies  in  the  zeal  of  that  which  it  presents, 
Their  form  confounded  makes  most  form  in  mirth, 
When  great  things  labouring  perish  in  their  birth.  520 

Biron.  A  right  description  of  our  sport,  my  lord. 


ACT  V.    SCENE   II.  in 

Enter  ARMADO. 

Armado.  Anointed,  I  implore  so  much  expense  of  thy  royal 
sweet  breath  as  will  utter  a  brace  of  words. 

[Converses  apart  with  the  King,  and  delivers  him  a  paper. 

Princess.   Doth  this  man  serve  God? 

Biron.  Why  ask  you  ? 

Princess.   He  speaks  not  like  a  man  of  God's  making. 

Armado.  That  is  all  one,  my  fair,  sweet,  honey  monarch; 
for,  I  protest,  the  schoolmaster  is  exceeding  fantastical,  too 
too  vain,  too  too  vain :  but  we  will  put  it,  as  they  say,  to  for- 
tuna  cle  la  guerra.  I  wish  you  the  peace  of  mind,  most  royal 
couplement !  \Exit. 

King.  Here  is  like  to  be  a  good  presence  of  Worthies. 
He  presents  Hector  of  Troy;  the  swain,  Pompey  the  Great; 
the  parish  curate<Alexander;  Armado's  page,  Hercules  ;  the 
pedant,  Judas  Maccabaeus  : 

And  if  these  four  Worthies  in  their  first  show  thrive, 
These  four  will  change  habits,  and  present  the  other  five. 

Bit  on.  There  is  five  in  the  first  show. 

King.  You  are  deceived ;  't  is  not  so. 

Biron.  The  pedant,  the  braggart,  the  hedge-priest,  the  fool, 
and  the  boy. —  541 

Abate  throw  at  novum,  and  the  whole  world  again 
Cannot  pick  out  five  such,  take  each  one  in  his  vein. 

King.  The  ship  is  under  sail,  and  here  she  comes  amain. 

Enter  COSTARD,  for  Pompey. 

Costard.    I  Pompey  am, — 

Boyet.  You  lie,  you  are  not  he. 

Costard.    I  Pompey  am, — 

Boyet.  With  libbard's  head  on  knee. 

Biron.  Well  said,  old  mocker;  I  must  needs   be  friends 

with  thee. 
Costard.    I  Pompey  am,  Pompey  surnam'd  the  Big, — 


Iia  LOVE'S  LABOUR'S  LOST. 

Dumain.  The  Great. 

Costard.  It  is  Great,  sir: — 

Pompey  surnam'd  the  Great;  55° 

That  oft  in  field,  with  targe  and  shield,  did  make  my  foe  to  sweat : 

And  travelling  along  this  coast,  I  here  am  come  by  chance, 

And  lay  my  arms  before  the  legs  of  this  sweet  lass  of  France. — 
If  your  ladyship  would  say, 'Thanks,  Pompey,'  I  had  done. 

Princess.  Great  thanks,  great  Pompey. 

Costard.  'T  is  not  so  much  worth ;  but  I  hope  I  was  per- 
fect.    I  made  a  little  fault  in  'Great.' 

Biron.  My  hat  to  a  halfpenny,  Pompey  proves  the  best 
Worthy. 

Enter  SIR  NATHANIEL,/^  Alexander. 

Nathaniel.  When   in   the   world   I   liv'd,   I    was  the  world's   com- 
mander ;  56o 
By  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  I  spread  my  conquering  might; 
My  scutcheon  plain  declares  that  I  am  Alisander, — 

Boyet.  Your  nose  says,  no,  you  are  not;  for  it  stands  too 

right. 
Biron.  Your  nose  smells  no  in  this,  most  tender-smelling 

knight. 

Princess.  The  conqueror  is  dismay'd. — Proceed, good  Alex- 
ander. 

Nathaniel.    When  in   the  world  I   liv'd,  I   was  the  world's  com- 
mander,— 

Boyet.  Most  true,  't  is  right ;  you  were  so,  Alisander. 
Biron.   Pompey  the  Great, — 

Costard.  Your  servant,  and  Costard.  s6g 

Biron.  Take  away  the  conqueror,  take  away  Alisander. 
Costard.  [To  Sir  Nathaniel\  O,  sir,  you  have  overthrown 
Alisander  the  conqueror!  You  will  be  scraped  out  of  the 
painted  cloth  for  this:  your  lion,  that  holds  his  poll-axe  sit- 
ting on  a  close-stool,  will  be  given  to  Ajax;  he  will  be  the 
ninth  Worthy.  A  conqueror,  and  afeard  to  speak  !  run  away 
for  shame,  Alisander. — {Nathaniel  retires^  There,  an  't  shall 
please  you ;  a  foolish  mild  man  ;  an  honest  man,  look  you, 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II.  H3 

and  soon  dashed.  He  is  a  marvellous  good  neighbour, 
faith,  and  a  very  good  bowler;  but,  for  Alisander, — alas,  you 
see  how  't  is, — a  little  o'erparted. — But  there  are  Worthies 
a-coming  will  speak  their  mind  in  some  other  sort.  581 

Princess.   Stand  aside,  good  Pompey. 

Enter  HOLOFERNES,  for  yudas ;  and  MOTH,  for  Hercules. 

Holofernes.    Great  Hercules  is  presented  by  this  imp, 

Whose  club  kill'd  Cerberus,  that  three-headed  canus  ; 
And  when  he  was  a  babe,  a  child,  a  shrimp, 

Thus  did  he  strangle  serpents  in  his  manus. 
Quoniam  he  seemeth  in  minority, 
Ergo  I  come  with  this  apology. — 
Keep  some  state  in  thy  exit,  and  vanish. —        \Moth  retires. 

Judas  I  am, —  59° 

Dumain.   A  Judas! 
Holofernes.   Not  Iscariot,  sir. — 

Judas  I  am,ycliped  Maccabaeus. 
Dumain.  Judas  Maccabaeus  dipt  is  plain  Judas. 
Biron.  A  kissing  traitor. — How  art  thou  prov'd  Judas? 
Holofernes.  Judas  I  am, — 
Dumain.  The  more  shame  for  you,  Judas. 
Holofernes.  What  mean  you,  sir? 
Boyet.  To  make  Judas  hang  himself. 

Holofernes.  Begin,  sir;  you  are  my  elder.  600 

Biron.  Well  follow'd;  J,udas  was  hang'd  on  an  elder. 
Holofernes.   I  will  not  be  put  out  of  countenance. 
Biron.  Because  thou  hast  no  face. 
Holofernes.  What  is  this  ? 
Boyet.  A  cittern-head. 
Dumain.  The  head  of  a  bodkin. 
Biron.  A  Death's  face  in  a  ring. 

Longaville.  The  face  of  an  old  Roman  coin,  scarce  seen. 
Boyet.  The  pommel  of  Caesar's  falchion. 
Dumain.  The  carved-bone  face  on  a  flask.  610 

Biron.  Saint  George's  half-cheek  in  a  brooch. 

H 


II4  LOVERS  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Dumain.  Ay,  and  in  a  brooch  of  lead. 

Biron.  Ay,  and  worn  in  the  cap  of  a  tooth-drawer. — 
And  now  forward;  for  we  have  put  thee  in  countenance. 

Holofernes.  You  have  put  me  out  of  countenance. 

Biron.  False ;  we  have  given  thee  faces. 

Holofernes.  But  you  have  out-faced  them  all. 

Biron.  An  thou  wert  a  lion,  we  would  do  so. 

Boyet.  Therefore,  as  he  is  an  ass,  let  him  go. — 
And  so  adieu,  sweet  Jude!  nay,  why  dost  thou  stay?  620 

Dumain.   For  the  latter  end  of  his  name. 

Biron.   For  the  ass   to   the  Jude?  give  it  him. — Jud-as, 
away! 

Holofernes.  This  is  not  generous,  not  gentle,  not  humble. 

Boyet.   A  light  for  Monsieur  Judas  !  it  grows  dark,  he  may 
stumble.  [Holofernes  retires. 

Princess.   Alas,  poor  Maccabaeus,  how  hath  he  been  baited  ! 

Enter  ARM  ADO,  for  Hector. 

Biron.   Hide  thy  head,  Achilles;    here  comes  Hector  in 
arms. 

Dumain.  Though   my  mocks  come  home   by  me,  I  will 
now  be  merry. 

King.  Hector  was  but  a  Trojan  in  respect  of  this.  630 

Boyet.  But  is  this  Hector  ? 

King.  I  think  Hector  was  not  so.  clean-timbered. 

Longaville.   His  leg  is  too  big  for  Hector's. 

Dumain.  More  calf,  certain. 

Boyet.   No;  he  is  best  indued  in  the  small. 

Biron.  This  cannot  be  Hector. 

Dumain.   He's  a  god  or  a  painter;  for  he  makes  faces. 

Armado.    The  armipotent  Mars,  of  lances  the  almighty, 
Gave  Hector  a  gift, — 

Dumain.   A  gilt  nutmeg.  640 

Biron.  A  lemon. 

Longaville.   Stuck  with  cloves. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II.  115 

Dumain.  No,  cloven. 

Armado.  Peace ! — 
The  armipotent  Mars,  of  lances  the  almighty, 

Gave  Hector  a  gift,  the  heir  of  Ilion  ; 
A  man  so  breath'd,  that  certain  he  would  fight  ye 
From  morn  till  night,  out  of  his  pavilion."""" 
I  am  that  flower, — 

Dumain.          That  mint. 

Longaville.  That  columbine. 

Armado.  Sweet  Lord  Longaville,  rein  thy  tongue.  650 

Longaville.  I  must  rather  give  it  the  rein,  for  it  runs  against 
Hector. 

Dumain.  Ay,  and  Hector  's  a  greyhound. 

Armado.  The  sweet  war-man  is  dead  and  rotten  ;  sweet 
chucks,  beat  not  the  bones  of  the  buried :  when  he  breathed, 
he  was  a  man.  But  I  will  forward  with  my  device.  —  [To  the 
Princess]  Sweet  royalty,  bestow  on  me  the  sense  of  hearing. 

Princess.   Speak,  brave  Hector;  we  are  much  delighted. 

Armado.  I  do  adore  thy  sweet  grace's  slipper. 

Boyet.  [Aside  to  Dumain]  Loves  her  by  the  foot.  660 

Dumain.  [Aside  to  Boyet]  He  may  not  by  the  yard. 

Armado.    This  Hector  far  surmounted  Hannibal, — 

Costard.  The  party  is  gone,  fellow  Hector,  she  is  gone;  she 
is  two  months  on  her  way. 

Armado.  What  meanest  thou  ? 

Costard.  Faith,  unless  you  play  the  honest  Trojan,  the 
poor  wench  is  cast  away ;  she  's  quick. 

Armado.  Dost  thou  infamonize  me  among  potentates? 
thou  shalt  die.  669 

Costard.  Then  shall  Hector  be  whipped  for  Jaquenetta 
that  is  quick  by  him,  and  hanged  for  Pompey  that  is  dead 
by  him. 

Dumain.  Most  rare  Pompey! 

Boyet.  Renowned  Pompey! 

Biron.  Greater  than  great, — great,  great,  great  Pompey! 
Pompey  the  Huge  ! 


XI6  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Dumain.  Hector  trembles. 

Biron.  Pompey  is  moved. — More  Ates,  more  Ales  !  stir 
them  on  !  stir  them  on  ! 

Dumain.   Hector  will  challenge  him.  680 

Biron.  Ay,  if  he  have  no  more  man's  blood  in  's  belly  than 
will  sup  a  flea. 

Armado.  By  the  north  pole,  I  do  challenge  thee. 

Costard.  I  will  not  fight  with  a  pole,  like  a  northern  man: 
I  '11  slash ;  I  '11  do  it  by  the  sword.  I  pray  you,  let  me  bor- 
row my  arms  again. 

Dumain.  Room  for  the  incensed  Worthies. 

Costard.   I'll  do  it  in  my  shirt. 

Dumain.  Most  resolute  Pompey!  689 

Moth.  Master,  let  me  take  you  a  button-hole  lower.  Do 
you  not  see  Pompey  is  uncasing  for  the  combat?  What 
mean  you  ?  You  will  lose  your  reputation. 

Armado.  Gentlemen  and  soldiers,  pardon  me ;  I  will  not 
combat  in  my  shirt. 

Dumain.  You  may  not  deny  it ;  Pompey  hath  made  the 
challenge. 

Armado.  Sweet  bloods,  I  both  may  and  will. 

Biron.  What  reason  have  you  for 't  ? 

Armado.  The  naked  truth  of  it  is,  I  have  no  shirt;  I  go 
wool  ward  for  penance.  700 

Boyet.  True,  and  it  was  enjoined  him  in  Rome  for  want 
of  linen ;  since  when,  I  '11  be  sworn,  he  wore  none  but  a 
dishclout  of  Jaquenetta's,  and  that  he  wears  next  his  heart 
for  a  favour. 

Enter  MERCADE. 

Mercade.  God  save  you,  madam ! 

Princess.  Welcome,  Mercade, 
But  that  thou  interrupt'st  our  merriment. 

Mercade.  I  am  sorry,  madam,  for  the  news  I  bring 
Is  heavy  in  my  tongue.     The  king  your  father — 

Princess.  Dead,  for  my  life !  710 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II.  1 17 

Mercade.   Even  so ;  my  tale  is  told. 

Biron.  Worthies,  away!  the  scene  begins  to  cloud. 

Annado.  For  mine  own  part,  I  breathe  free  breath.  I 
have  seen  the  day  of  wrong  through  the  little  hole  of  dis- 
cretion, and  I  will  right  myself  like  a  soldier. 

{Exeunt  Worthies. 

King.   How  fares  your  majesty? 

Princess.   Boyet,  prepare ;  I  will  away  to-night. 

King.   Madam,  not  so;  I  do  beseech  you,  stay. 

Princess.   Prepare,  I  say. — I  thank  you,  gracious  lords, 
For  all  your  fair  endeavours,  and  entreat,  720 

Out  of  a  new-sad  soul,  that  you  vouchsafe 
In  your  rich  wisdom  to  excuse  or  hide 
The  liberal  opposition  of  our  spirits; 
If  over-boldly  we  have  borne  ourselves 
In  the  converse  of  breath,  your  gentleness 
Was  guilty  of  it. — Farewell,  worthy  lord! 
A  heavy  heart  bears  not  a  nimble  tongue. 
Excuse  me  so,  coming  too  short  of  thanks 
For  my  great  suit  so  easily  obtain'd. 

King.  The  extreme  parts  of  time  extremely  forms  730 

All  causes  to  the  purpose  of  his  speed, 
And  often  at  his  very  loose  decides 
That  which  long  process  could  not  arbitrate : 
And  though  the  mourning  brow  of  progeny 
Forbid  the  smiling  courtesy  of  love 
The  holy  suit  which  fain  it  would  convince, 
Yet,  since  love's  argument  was  first  on  foot, 
Let  not  the  cloud  of  sorrow  justle  it 
From  what  it  purpos'd  ;  since  to  wail  friends  lost 
Is  not  by  much  so  wholesome-profitable  ?4<: 

As  to  rejoice  at  friends  but  newly  found. 

Princess.  I  understand  you  not;  my  griefs  are  dull. 

Biron.   Honest  plain  words  best  pierce  the  ear  of  grief: 
And  by  these  badges  understand  the  king. 


ng  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

For  your  fair  sakes  have  we  neglected  time, 
Play'cl  foul  play  with  our  oaths :  your  beauty,  ladies, 
Hath  much  deform'd  us,  fashioning  our  humours 
Even  to  the  opposed  end  of  our  intents; 
And  what  in  us  hath  seem'd  ridiculous, — 
.As  love  is  full  of  unbefitting  strains,  75° 

All  wanton  as  a  child,  skipping  and  vain, 
Form'd  by  the  eye,  and  therefore,  like  the  eye, 
Full  of  strange  shapes,  of  habits,  and  of  forms, 
Varying  in  subjects  as  the  eye  doth  roll 
To  every  varied  object  in  his  glance : 
Which  parti-coated  presence  of  loose  love 
Put  on  by  us,  if,  in  your  heavenly  eyes, 
Have  misbecom'd  our  oaths  and  gravities, 
Those  heavenly  eyes,  that  look  into  these  faults, 
Suggested  us  to  make.     Therefore,  ladies,  760 

Our  love  being  yours,  the  error  that  love  makes 
Is  likewise  yours:  we  to  ourselves  prove  false, 
By  being  once  false  for  ever  to  be  true 
To  those  that  make  us  both, — fair  ladies,  you  ; 
And  even  that  falsehood,  in  itself  a  sin, 
Thus  purifies  itself  and  turns  to  grace. 

Princess.  We  have  receiv'd  your  letters  full  of  love, 
Your  favours,  the  ambassadors  of  love, 
And,  in  our  maiden  council,  rated  them 

At  courtship,  pleasant  jest,  and  courtesy,  770 

As  bombast  and  as  lining  to  the  time; 
But  more  devout  than  this  in  our  respects 
Have  we  not  been,  and  therefore  met  your  loves 
In  their  own  fashion,  like  a  merriment. 

Dumain.  Our  letters,  madam,  show'd  much  more  than  jest. 

Longaville.  So  did  our  looks. 

Rosaline.  We  did  not  quote  them  so. 

King.  Now,  at  the  latest  minute  of  the  hour, 
Grant  us  your  loves. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II. 


119 


Princess.  A  time,  methinks,  too  short 

To  make  a  world-without-end  bargain  in. 
No,  no,  my  lord,  your  grace  is  perjur'd  much,  & 

Full  of  dear  guiltiness;  and  therefore  this: 
If  for  my  love — as  there  is  no  such  cause — 
You  will  do  aught,  this  shall  you  do  for  me: 
Your  oath  I  will  not  trust;  but  go  with  speed 
To  some  forlorn  and  naked  hermitage, 
Remote  from  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world ; 
There  stay  until  the  twelve  celestial  signs 
Have  brought  about  the  annual  reckoning. 
If  this  austere  insociable  life 

Change  not  your  offer  made  in  heat  of  blood,  79c 

If  frosts  and  fasts,  hard  lodging  and  thin  weeds 
Nip  not  the  gaudy  blossoms  of  your  love, 
But  that  it  bear  this  trial  and  last  love, 
Then,  at  the  expiration  of  the  year, 
Come  challenge  me,  challenge  me  hy  these  deserts. 
And,  by  this  virgin  palm  now  kissing  thine, 
I  will  be  thine,  and  till  that  instant  shut 
My  woeful  self  up  in  a  mourning  house, 
Raining  the  tears  of  lamentation 

For  the  remembrance  of  my  father's  death.  &*> 

If  this  thou  do  deny,  let  our  hands  part, 
Neither  intitled  in  the  other's  heart. 
King.   If  this,  or  more  than  this,  I  would  deny, 

To  flatter  up  these  powers  of  mine  with  rest, 
The  sudden  hand  of  death  close  up  mine  eye! 

Hence  ever  then  my  heart  is  in  thy  breast. 

\Biron.   And  what  to  me,  my  love?  and  what  to  me? 

Rosaline.   You  must  be  purged  too,  your  sins  are  rank. 
You  are  attaint  with  faults  and  perjury; 
Therefore  if  you  my  favour  mean  to  get,  SK> 

A  twelvemonth  shall  you  spend,  and  never  rest, 
But  seek  the  weary  beds  of  people  sick.] 


120  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

Dumain.  But  what  to  me,  my  love?  but  what  to  me? 
A  wife? 

Katherine.  A  beard,  fair  health,  and  honesty; 
With  three-fold  love  I  wish  you  all  these  three. 

Dumain.  O,  shall  I  say,  I  thank  you,  gentle  wife? 

Katherine.  Not  so,  my  lord;  a  twelvemonth  and  a  day 
I  '11  mark  no  words  that  smooth-fac'd  wooers  say. 
Come  when  the  king  doth  to  my  lady  come; 
Then,  if  I  have  much  love,  I  '11  give  you  some.  82* 

Dumain.  I  '11  serve  thee  true  and  faithfully  till  then. 

Katherine.  Yet  swear  not,  lest  ye  be  forsworn  again. 

Longaviile.  What  says  Maria? 

Maria.  At  the  twelvemonth's  end 

I  '11  change  my  black  gown  for  a  faithful  friend. 

Longaviile.  I    '11    stay    with    patience;    but    the    time    is 
long. 

Maria.  The  liker  you  ;  few  taller  are  so  young. 

Biron.  Studies  my  lady?  mistress,  look  on  me; 
Behold  the  window  of  my  heart,  mine  eye, 
What  humble  suit  attends  thy  answer  there; 
Impose  some  service  on  me  for  thy  love.  830 

Rosaline.  Oft  have  I  heard  of  you,  my  Lord  Biron, 
Before  I  saw  you ;  and  the  world's  large  tongue 
Proclaims  you  for  a  man  replete  with  mocks, 
Full  of  comparisons  and  wounding  flouts, 
Which  you  on  all  estates  will  execute 
That  lie  within  the  mercy  of  your  wit. 
To  weed  this  wormwood  from  your  fruitful  brain, 
And  therewithal  to  win  me,  if  you  please, — 
Without  the  which  I  am  not  to  be  won, — 
You  shall  this  twelvemonth  term  from  day  to  day  840 

Visit  the  speechless  sick,  and  still  converse 
With  groaning  wretches;  and  your  task  shall  be, 
With  all  the  fierce  endeavour  of  your  wit 
To  enforce  the  pained  impotent  to  smile. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II.  I2i 

Biron.  To  move  wild  laughter  in  the  throat  of  death? 
It  cannot  be;  it  is  impossible: 
Mirth  cannot  move  a  soul  in  agony. 

Rosaline.  Why,  that 's  the  way  to  choke  a  gibing  spirit, 
Whose  influence  is  begot  of  that  loose  grace 
Which  shallow  laughing  hearers  give  to  fools.  850 

A  jest's  prosperity  lies  in  the  ear 
Of  him  that  hears  it,  never  in  the  tongue 
Of  him  that  makes  it:  then,  if  sickly  ears, 
Deafd  with  the  clamours  of  their  own  clear  groans, 
Will  hear  your  idle  scorns,  continue  them, 
And  I  will  have  you  and  that  fault  withal ; 
But  if  they  will  not,  throw  away  that  spirit, 
And  I  shall  find  you  empty  of  that  fault, 
Right  joyful  of  your  reformation. 

Biron.  A  twelvemonth!  well;  befall  what  will  befall,  S6o 
I  :11  jest  a  twelvemonth  in  an  hospital. 

Princess.  \To  the  King]  Ay,  sweet  my  lord;  and  so  I  take 
my  leave. 

King.  No,  madam ;  we  will  bring  you  on  your  way. 

Biron.  Our  wooing  doth  not  end  like  an  old  play; 
Jack  hath  not  Jill :  these  ladies'  courtesy 
Might  well  have  made  our  sport  a  comedy. 

King.   Come,  sir,  it  wants  a  twelvemonth  and  a  day, 
And  then  't  will  end. 

Biron.  That 's  too  long  for  a  play. 

Re-enter  ARMADO. 

Armado.  Sweet  majesty,  vouchsafe  me, — 

Princess.  Was  not  that  Hector?  870 

Dnmain.  The  worthy  knight  of  Troy. 

Armado.  I  will  kiss  thy  royal  finger,  and  take  leave,  i 
am  a  votary ;  I  have  vowed  to  Jaquenetta  to  hold  the  plough 
for  her  sweet  love  three  years.  But,  most  esteemed  great- 
ness, will  you  hear  the  dialogue  that  the  two  learned  men 


122  LOVE'S  LABOUR  'S  LOST. 

have  compiled  in  praise  of  the  owl  and  the  cuckoo  ?  it  should 
have  followed  in  the  end  of  our  show. 

King.  Call  them  forth  quickly;  we  will  do  so. 

Armado.   Holla!  approach. 

Re-enter  HOLOFERNES,  NATHANIEL,  MOTH,  COSTARD,  and 
others. 

This  side  is  Hiems,  Winter,  this  Ver,  the  Spring;  the  one 
maintained  by  the  owl,  the  other  by  the  cuckoo. — Ver,  begin. 

Song. 
Spring.   When  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue,  882 

And  lady-smocks  all  silver-white, 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue 

Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight, 
The  cuckoo  then,  on  every  tree, 
Mocks  married  men  ;  for  thus  sings  he, 

Cuckoo  ; 

Cuckoo,  cuckoo, — O  word  of  fear, 
Unpleasing  to  a  married  ear!  890 

When  shepherds  pipe  on  oaten  straws, 
And  merry  larks  are  ploughmen 's  clocks, 

When  turtles  tread,  and  rooks,  and  daws, 
And  maidens  bleach  their  summer  smocks, 

The  cuckoo  then,  on  every  tree, 

Mocks  married  men;  for  thus  sings  he, 
Cuckoo  ; 

Cuckoo,  cuckoo, —  O  word  of  fear, 

Unpleasing  tc  a  married  ear! 

Winter.  When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall,  900 

And  Dick  the  shepherd  blows  his  nail, 
And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 

And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail, 
When  blood  is  nipp'd  and  ways  befoul, 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II.  123 

Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl, 

Tu-whoo; 

Tu-whit  tu-whoo,  a  merry  note, 
While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

When  all  aloud  the  wind  doth  blow, 

And  coughing  drowns  the  parson's  saw,  910 

And  birds  sit  brooding  in  the  snow, 

And  Marian's  nose  looks  red  and  raw, 
When  roasted  crabs  hiss  in  the  bowl, 
Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl, 

Tu-whoo  ; 

Tu-whit.,  tu-whoo,  a  merry  note, 
While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

Armado.  The  words  of  Mercury  are  harsh  after  the  songs 
of  Apollo.     You  that  way, — we  this  way.  [Exeunt. 


NOTES 


ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  THE  NOTES. 

Abbott  (or  Gr.),  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (third  edition). 
A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon. 

A.  V.,  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  (1611). 

B.  and  F.,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
B.  J.,  Ben  Jonson. 

Camb.  ed.,  "  Cambridge  edition"  of  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Clark  and  Wright. 

Cf.  (confer),  compare. 

Clarke,  '•  Casseh's  Illustrated  Shakespeare,"  edited  by  Charles  and  Mary  Cowden- 
Clarke  (.London,  n.  d.). 

Coll.,  Collier  (second  edition;. 

Coll.  MS.,  Manuscript  Corrections  of  Second  Folio,  edited  by  Collier. 

D.,  Dyce  (second  edition). 

H.,  Hudson  ("  Harvard"  edition). 

Halliwell,  J.  O.  Halliwell  (folio  ed.  of  Shakespeare). 

Id.  (idem),  the  same. 

K.,  Knight  (second  edition). 

Nares,  Glossary,  edited  by  Hilhwell  and  Wright  (London,  1859). 

Prol.,  Prologue. 

S.,  Shakespeare. 

Schmidt,  A.  Schmidt's  Shanespeare- Lexicon  (Berlin,  1874). 

Sr.,  Singer. 

St.,  Staunton. 

Theo.,  Theobald. 

V.,  Verplanck. 

W.,  R.  Grant  White. 

Walker,  Wm.  Sidney  Walker's  Critical  Examination  of  the  Text  of  Shakespeare 
(London,  1860). 

Warb.,  Warburton. 

'iVb.,  Webster's  Dictionary  (revised  quarto  edition  of  1879). 

Wore.,  Worcester's  Dictionary  (quarto  edition). 

The  abbreviation-  of  the  names  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  will  be  readily  understood  ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolamis,  3  Hen.  VI.  for  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  ;  V.  and  A .  to  feitus 
and  Adonis  ;  L.  C.  to  Lover's  Complaint ;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

When  the  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  play  is  followed  by  a  reference  to  page, 
Rolfe's  edition  of  the  play  is  meant. 
The  numbers  of  the  lines  (except  ior  the  present  play)  are  those  of  the  "  Globe  "  ed. 


NOTES. 


Like  Muscovites  or  Russians  (v.  2.  121). 


INTRODUCTION. 

THE  TITLE  OF  THE  PLAY. — Mason  says:  "I  believe  the  title  of  this 
play  should  be  Love's  Labours  Lost"  and  Mr.  Furnivall  (see  p.  9  above) 
agrees  with  him.  The  title-pages  of  the  quartos  give  "  Loues  labors 
lost"  and  "Loues  Labours  lost;"  but  the  running  title  of  the  quartos 
and  1st  and  2cl  folios  <s  "Loues  Labour's  Lost,"  which  is  clearly  a  con- 
traction of  "  Love's  Labour  is  Lost."  In  the  early  eds.  the  possessive 
case  is  commonly  given  without  the  apostrophe  (as  in  the  titles  "  A  Mid- 


I28  NOTES. 

sommer  nights  Dreame"  and  "The  Winters  Tale") ;  but  the  contraction 
of  is  generally  has  the  apostrophe  (as  in  "  All 's  Well  that  ends  Well  "). 
Meres  calls  the  play  "  Loue  labors  lost,"  and  Tofte  "  Loues  Labour  Lost." 
We  prefer  to  follow  the  folio  rather  than  the  quarto,  which  is  not  con- 
sistent with  itself. 

In  the  quartos  the  play  is  not  divided  into  acts  or  scenes.  In  the  folio 
it  is  divided  into  acts  of  very  unequal  length,  "  the  first  being  half  as  long 
again,  the  fourth  twice  as  long,  the  fifth  three  times  as  long,  as  the  sec- 
ond and  third  "  (Spedding). 

DRAMATIS  PERSONS. — In  the  quartos  and  the  folio  (cf.  Oth.  p.  153)  no 
list  of  dramatis  persona  is  given.  Biron  is  spelt  "  Berowne,"  and  in  iv. 
3.  227  it  rhymes  with  "moon."  W.  spells  it  "Birone."  Mercade  ap- 
pears as  "Marcade"  in  the  quartos  and  ist  folio,  and  Armada  is  some- 
times "  Armatho."  W.  thinks  that  Moth  should  be  printed  "  Mote,"  as 
it  was  clearly  so  pronounced.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  p.  179  (note  on  Goa.^j  and 
Much  Ado,  p.  136  (on  Nothing).  In  i.  2.  85  of  the  present  play,  in  "  She 
had  a  green  wit"  there  is  probably  an  allusion  to  the  "green  withes" 
used  in  binding  Samson.  Boyet  rhymes  with  debt  in  v.  2.  336 ;  Lon^a- 
•ville  with  *'//  in  iv.  3.  118,  and  with  mile  in  v.  2.  53;  and  Rosaline  with 
thine  in  iv.  3. 216.  Costard,  in  the  old  stage-directions,  is  called  "Clown." 

COSTUME. — As  K.  remarks,  Cesare  Vecellio,  in  his  Habiti  Antichi  (ed. 
1598),  gives  us  the  general  costume  of  Navarre  at  this  period.  We  are 
told  that  some  dressed  in  imitation  of  the  French,  and  some'in  the  style 
of  the  Spaniards,  while  others  blended  the  fashions  of  both  these  nations. 
The  cut  on  p.  9  is  from  Vecellio,  and  shows  the  Spanish  gentleman  and 
the  French  lady  of  1589.  For  the  costume  of  the  Muscovites  in  the 
masque,  see  on  v.  2.  121  below,  and  cf.  cut  on  p.  127. 


ACT   I. 

SCENE  I. — 3.  And  then,  etc.  Pope  puts  this  line  in  the  margin  as 
spurious. 

6.  Bale.  Blunt ;  not  to  be  printed  "'bate,"  as  by  H.  and  some  other 
editors.  Cf.  bateless  in  R.  of  L.  9:  "bateless  edge;"  and  unbated  in 
Ham.  iv.  7.  139 :  "  A  sword  unbated  ;"  and  Id.  v.  2.  328 :  "  Unbated  and 
envenom'd." 

11.  Edict.  Accented  by  S.  on  either  syllable,  as  suits  ..he  measure. 
Cf.  the  present  instance  and  M.  N.  D.  \.  i.  151  with  Rich.  III.  i.  4.  203, 
etc. 

13.  Academe.     The  spelling  of  the  2d  quarto  and  2d  folio ;    the  ist 
quarto  and  ist  folio  have  "  .A  chademe,"  and  the  3d  and  4th  folios  "  Acad- 
emy." 

14.  Living  art.     "Immortal    science"  (Schmidt).     For  <w/=letters, 
learning  in  general,  cf.  iv.  2.  106  below. 

23.  Deep  oaths.  For  the  use  of  deep,  cLSonn.  152.  9:  "I  have  sworn 
deep  oaths  ;"  R.  of  L.  1847  :  "  that  deep  vow  ;"  and  K.  John,  iii.  i.  231 : 
"deep-sworn  faith." 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 


129 


Steevens  changed  oaths  to  "oath"  on  account  of  the  following  it;  but, 
as  the  Camb.  editors  remark,  we  have  here  "  an  instance  of  the  lax  gram- 
mar of  the  time,  which  permitted  the  use  of  a  singular  pronoun  referring 
to  a  plural  substantive,  and  vice  versa."  Cf.  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  i.  i : 

"You  cannot  read  it  there  ;  there,  through  my  tears, 
Like  wrinkled  pebbles  in  a  glassy  stream, 
You  may  behold  V;«." 

The  second  folio  changes  it  to  "them."  We  may  explain  it  as  ="that 
which  you  have  vowed  to  do  "  (Clarke). 

27.  Bankrupt  quite.  The  1st  quarto  has  "  bancrout  quite,"  the  folios 
only  "bankerout."  Pope  was  the  first  modern  editor  to  restore  quite. 
For  the  spelling  of  bankrupt,  see  R.  and  y.  p.  187. 

29.  These  worlds,  delights.  These  worldly  delights.  The  Coll.  MS. 
changes  these  to  "this." 

32.  All  these.  That  is,  his  companions,  to  whom  he  may  be  supposed 
to  point.  Johnson  took  these  to  refer  to  love,  wealth,  and  pomp.  Mr.  P. 
A.  Daniel  conjectures  "  all  three." 

43.  Wink.  Shut  the  eyes  ;  as  often  in  S.  Cf.  Sonn.  43.  i,  56.  6,  Temp. 
ii.  i.  216,  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  58,  etc. 

For  0/"=during,  cf.  7\  of  S.  ind,  2.  84:  "  But  did  I  never  speak  of  all 
that  time  ?"  Gr.  176. 

50.  An  if.     For  an  if  or  andtf(  =  even  if),  see  Gr.  105. 

62.  Feast.  The  quartos  and  folios  all  have  "  fast ;"  corrected  by  Theo. 
He  suggested  as  an  alternative  "fore-bid"  (  =  "  enjoined  beforehand") 
for  forbid. 

64.  From  common  sense.     That  is,  from  ordinary  sight  or  perception. 
Cf.  "the  sense  of  sense"  (=the  sight  of  the  eye)  in  v.  2.  260  below. 

65.  Too  hard  a  keeping  oath.     For  the  transposition  of  the  article,  cf. 
K.  John,  iv.  2.  27  :  "  So  new  a  fashion'd  robe  ;"  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  186 :  "  so 
fair  an  offer'd  chain  ;"   T.  and  C.  v.  6.  20  :  "  much  more  a  fresher  man," 
etc.    Gr.  422.    Most  editors  follow  Hanmer  in  printing  "  hard-a-keeping." 

67.  Be  thus.     Changed  by  Pope  to  "be  this." 

72.  And  that.  The  reading  of  the  folios;  the  ist  quarto  has  "but 
that." 

80.  Study  me.  The  me  is  the  expletive  pronoun,  or  "  dativus  ethicus," 
often  used,  as  here,  "  with  a  slight  dash  of  humour  "  (H.).  Cf.  Gr.  220. 

82.  Who  dazzling  so,  etc.  "  That  when  he  dazzles,  that  is,  has  his  eye 
made  weak,  by  fixing  his  eye  upon  a  fairer  eye,  that  fairer  eye  shall  be 
his  heed,  his  direction  or  lodestar,  and  give  him  light  that  was  blinded  by 
it"  (Johnson). 

87.  Base.    Perhaps,  as  Walker  conjectures,  a  misprint  for  "  bare." 

91.  Wot.     Know  ;  used  only  in  the  present  and  the  participle  -wotting, 
for  which  see  W.  T.  p.  175. 

92.  Too  much  to  know,  etc.      "  The  consequence,  says  Biron,  of  too 
much  knowledge,  is  not  any  real  solution  of  doubts,  but  mere  reputation  ; 
that  is,  too  much  knowledge  gives  only  fame,  a  name  which  every  god- 
father can  give  likewise"  (Johnson);  or,  as  Clarke  puts  it:  "To  know 
overmuch  is  not  to  be  wise,  but  to  get  the  name  of  being  wise :  and  ev- 

I 


I30  NOTES. 

ery  godfather  (like  these  earthly  godfathers  that  name  the  stars)  can  give  a 
man  a  name  for  wisdom." 

95.  Proceeded  well,  etc.  There  is  a  play  upon  proceed,  which,  as  John- 
son notes,  is  "  an  academical  term,  meaning  to  take  a  degree,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded bachelor  in  physic.'1'' 

loo.  Sneaping.  Snipping,  or  nipping.  Cf.  IV.  T.  \.  2.  13  :  "Sneaping 
winds  ;"  and  K.  of  L.  333  :  "  the  sneaped  birds."  For  the  noun  sneap 
(=snubbing)  see  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  161. 

104.  An  abortive.  The  early  eds.  have  "any"  for  an;  corrected  by 
Pope.  The  error  was  probably  due  to  the  any  in  the  line  above. 

106.  Mirth.     The  early  eds.  have  "showes  "  or  "shows."     Theo.  sub- 
stituted "earth  "  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme,  but  we  prefer  Walker's  con- 
jecture of  mirth.     Malone  thinks  that  a  line  rhyming  with  104  may  have 
been  lost. 

107.  Like  of.     Cf.  Much  Ado,  \.  4.  59  :  "I  am  your  husband,  if  you 
like  of  me."     See  also  iv.  3.  153  below.     Gr.  177. 

108.  So  you,  to  study,  etc.     This  is  the  quarto  reading,  and  is  generally 
adopted,  though  we  cannot  help  thinking  that  there  is  some  corruption. 
The  folio  has : 

"  So  you  to  studie  now  it  is  too  late, 
That  were  to  clymbe  ore  the  house  to  vnlocke  the  gate." 

W.  reads : 

"  So  you  to  study  now  ; — it  is  too  late  : 
That  were  to  climb  the  house  o'er  to  unlock  the  gate ;" 

which  he  explains  thus  :  "  Birone,  in  justification  of  his  ridicule  of  these 
literary  pursuits,  says  that  they  are  untimely,  that  he  likes  not  roses  at 
Christmas  or  snow  in  May,  and  adds, '  So  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  study 
now:  that  were  to  climb  over  a  house  to  unlock  a  gate;  or,  in  other 
words,  'you  are  beginning  at  the  wrong  end — doing  boys'  work  at  men's 
years.'  But,  according  to  the  quarto,  he  says,  'I  like  of  each  thing  that 
in  season  grows  ;  so  you,  now  it  is  too.late  to  study,  climb  o'er  the  house 
to  unlock  the  little  gate:'  whereas  it  was  not  so  (that  is,  like  Birone)  at 
all,  but  exactly  not  so."  We  take  it,  however,  that  to  study  now  it  is  too 
late  is  =in  studying  now  that  it  is  too  late;  the  infinitive  being  used  in 
the  "  indefinite  "  way,  as  Abbott  calls  it  (Gr.  356),  so  common  in  S.  But, 
as  Lettsom  has  noted,  the  so  is  awkward  in  either  case.  He  conjectures  : 

"  But  you  '11  to  study,  now  it  is  too  late  ; 
That  were  to  climb  o'er  the  house  to  unlock  the  gate." 

If  the  folio  is  to  be  followed,  it  is  better  to  take  it  just  as  it  is,  making  it 
a  line  of  five  feet  with  slurred  syllables,  than  to  turn  it  into  an  alexan- 
drine, as  W.  does.  Alexandrines  are  extremely  rare  in  the  early  plays 
of  S.  Mr.  Fleay  (Dr.  Ingleby's  51.  the  Man  and  the  Book,  Part  II.  p.  71) 
finds  only  four  in  L.  L.  L.,  one  of  which  is  doubtful.  The  Coll.  MS.  has 
"by  study  "for  tostiidy,  and"  Climb  o'er  the  house-top  to  unlock  the  gate." 

no.  Sit  yon  out.  The  reading  of  the  quartos  and  the  later  folios  ;  the 
ist  folio  has  "fit"  for  sit.  The  expression  is  one  used  in  card-playing 
for  taking  no  part  in  the  game. 

114.  Swore.    The  reading  of  the  later  folios,  and  required  by  the  rhyme. 


ACT  I.     SCENE   I.  I3I 

The  quartos  and  1st  folio  have  "sworne."  Elsewhere  S.  has  sworn  for 
the  participle,  but  we  find  broke  for  broken,  froze  lor  frozen,  smote  for  smit- 
ten, etc.  See  Gr.  343.  Ci.foigot  in  139  below,  and  chose  in  167. 

127.  Gentility.  Refinement,  courtesy.  Theo.  conjectures  "garrulity," 
and  St.  "scurrility."  H.  points  thus:  "A  dangerous  law, — against  gen- 
tility." The  early  eds.  make  the  line  a  part  of  Longaville's  speech ;  but 
Theo.  is  clearly  right  in  transferring  it  to  Biron. 

134.  Complete.  Accented  on  the  first  syllable  because  preceding  a  noun 
so  accented.  See  M.  for  M.  p.  139,  and  cf.  Cymb.  p.  174  (on  Supreme) 
or  Cor.  p.  255  (on  Divine). 

145.  Of  force.     Perforce,  of  necessity. 

146.  Lie.    Lodge,  reside.    See  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  185,  or  Oth.  p.  193.    Reed 
quotes  Wotton's  definition  :  "An  ambassador  is  an  honest  man  sent  to 
lie  abroad  for  the  good  of  his  country." 

Mere.  Absolute.  See  Temp.  p.  in,  note  on  We  are  merely  cheated, 
etc.  Cf.  i.  2.  33  below. 

149.  Affects.  Affections,  inclinations  ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  \.  4.  30  and  Oth. 
i.  3.  264. 

156.  Suggestions.  Temptations;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.  See  Temp. 
p.  127.  Cf.  the  verb  in^.  2.  760  below. 

158.  /  am  the  last  that  will  last  keep  his  oath.     Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel  con- 
jectures "  one  "  for  the  first  last,  on  the  ground  that  Biron  is  made  to  say 
the  contrary  of  what  he  means ;  but  S.  sometimes  twists  the  sense  of  a 
word  a  little  for  the  sake  of  a  repetition  like  this.     Walker  would  read 
"  last  will  "  for  will  last. 

159.  Quick.     Lively,  animated  ;  as  in  i.  2.  23,  29,  v.  i.  54,  and  v.  2.  284 
below.     Cf.  its  use  =  living  ;  for  which  see  Ham.  p.  262. 

164.  One  whom.  The  1st  folio  has  "One  who,"  which  might  be  re- 
tained. Cf.  iv.  i.  71  below,  and  see  Gr.  274. 

166.  Complements.  Probably  =  accomplishments,  as  Johnson  and  oth- 
ers explain  it.  Schmidt  takes  it  to  be  =  external  show.  The  early  eds. 
make  no  distinction  between  complement  and  compliment. 

168.  Hight.  Is  called  ;  used  by  S.  only  as  an  archaism.  Cf.  245  be- 
low. See  also  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  140  and  Per.  iv.  prol.  18. 

171.  Debate.  Contest,  quarrel;  the  only  sense  in  S.  Cf.  M.  N.  D. 
ii.  i.  116,  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  4.  2,  etc. 

1 74.  /  will  use  him  for  my  minstrelsy.  "I  will  make  a  minstrel  of  him, 
whose  occupation  was  to  relate  fabulous  stories  "  (Donee). 

176.  Fire-new.  Brand-new,  fresh  from  the  mint.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  I.  3. 
256  :  "  Your  fire-new  stamp  of  honour  is  scarce  current ;"  T.  N.  iii.  2.  23  : 
"fire-new  from  the  mint,"  etc. 

179.  Duke's.  Changed  by  Theo.  to  "King's;"  but  cf.  i.  2.35  and  118 
below,  where  Armado  uses  it  in  the  same  blundering  way.  We  find  it 
even  in  the  mouth  of  the  princess  in  ii.  I.  38  below.  Dogberry  applies 
the  word  to  the  prince  in  Much  Ado,  iii.  5.  22.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  p.  125. 

182.  Tharborough.  For  thirdborough,  a  kind  of  constable.  See  T. 
ofS.  p.  125. 

187.  Contempts.     Contents.     Cf.  M.  IV.  p.  135. 

IQI.  Having.    Possession.    The  early  eds.  have  "  heaven  ;"  corrected 


132 


NOTES. 


by  Theo.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "hearing."  The  Camb.  editors,  St.,  and 
Clarke  retain  "  heaven."  St.  remarks :  "  The  allusion  may  be  to  the 
representations  of  heaven,  and  the  attendant  personifications  of  Faith, 
Hope,  etc.,  in  the  ancient  pageants." 

193.  Laughing.     The  early  eds.  have  "hearing  ;"  corrected  by  Capell. 

196.  Style.  There  is  an  evident  play  on  stile ;  as  in  iv.  i.  92  below. 
See  also  Much  Ado,  v.  2.  6.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  chime  "  for  climb. 

199.  Taken  with  the  manner.  A  law  term  =  taken  in  the  fact,  or  in  the 
act.  See  W.  T.  p.  205,  or  i  Hen.  IV.  p.  168. 

203.  Form.  Bench.  For  the  play  upon  the  word,  cf.  R.  and  J.  ii.  4. 
36  :  "  who  stand  so  much  on  the  new  form  that  they  cannot  sit  at  ease  on 
the  old  bench." 

220.  But  so.     Equivalent  to  "but  so-so,"  which  Hanmer  substituted. 

232.  Ycleped.  Called ;  an  archaism  put  only  into  the  mouths  of  Ar- 
mado  and  Holofernes.  Cf.  v.  2.  593  below. 

237.  Curious- knotted.  Elaborately  laid  out  in  knots,  or  interlacing  beds. 
Cf.  Kick.  //.  iii.  4. 46 :  "  Her  knots  disorder'd  ;"  and  Milton,  P.  L.  iv.  242  : 
"  In  beds  and  curious  knots."  See  the  cut  on  p.  35. 

243.  Vassal.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "vessel."  Possibly  there  is  a  play 
on  the  word. 

247.  Sorted.     Associated  ;  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  162  and  Hani.  ii.  2. 
274.     Cf.  Bacon,  Essay  7:  "  Makes  them  sort  with  meane  Company." 

248.  With — with.     The  early  eds.  have  "which  with;"  corrected  by 
Theo. 

249.  Passion.     Sorrow,  grieve.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  172:  "Ariadne 
passioning  For  Theseus'  perjury  ;"  and  V.  and  A.  1059  :  "  Dumbly  she 
passions,  franticly  she  doteth."     Cf.  the  noun  in  v.  2.  118  below. 

258.  The  -weaker  vessel.  Taken  from  I  Peter,  iii.  7  (cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  4.  6, 
2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  66,  and  R.  and  J.  i.  I.  20),  as  vessel  of  thy  law's  fury  from 
Romans,  ix.  22.  In  the  latfer  passage  Theo.  changes  vessel  to  "  vassal." 

274.  Damosel.  The  folio  has  "damosell"  here  and  in  the  next  two 
lines,  the  ist  quarto  "  damsel."  Holofernes  makes  it  "  damosella  "  in  iv. 
2.  122  below. 

290.  Lay.  Stake,  wager.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  i.  242  :  "  lay  twenty  French 
crowns  to  one,"  etc.  Capell  conjectured  "  man's  good  hat." 

296.  Till  then,  sit  thee,  etc.  The  reading  of  the  ist  quarto.  The  folio 
has  "  vntill  then  sit  thee,"  etc.  The  Coll.  MS.  reads  "  untill  then  set  thee." 

SCENE  II. — 5.  Imp.  Youngling;  used  only  by  Armado,  Holofernes, 
and  Pistol.  The  word  originally  meant  an  offshoot  or  scion  of  a  tree ; 
thence,  figuratively,  offspring  or  child ;  finally  becoming  limited  to  a 
young  devil.  Johnson  remarks  that  Lord  Cromwell,  in  his  last  letter  to 
Henry  VIII.,  prays  for  the  imp  his  son.  Spenser  in  the  prologue  to  F.  Q. 
addresses  Cupid  as 

"most  dreaded  impe  of  highest  Jove, 
Faire  Venus  sonne." 

Cf.  F.  Q.  iii.  S.  53  : 

"  Fayre  ympes  of  beauty,  whose  bright  shining  beames 
Adome  the  world  with  like  to  heavenly  light,"  etc 


ACT  I.    SCENE  II. 


133 


8.  Juvenal.  Juvenile,  youth  ;  used  only  by  Armado,  Flute  (M.  N.  D. 
iii.  i.  97),  and  in  jest  by  Falstaff  (2  Hen.  Iv.  i.  2.  22). 

11.  Senior.     The  1st  quarto  has  "signeor,"  and  the  folio  "signeur." 

13.  Ef'itheton.  Epithet ;  the  reading  of  2d  folio.  The  ist  folio  has 
"apathaton,"  and  the  quarto  "apethaton." 

33.  Crosses  love  not  him.  The  boy  plays  on  crosses  as  applied  to  coin. 
We  have  the  same  pun  in  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  4.  12  and  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  253  (see 
our  ed.  p.  156).  Afere= absolute,  very.  See  on  i.  I.  146  above. 

40.  A  tapster.  For  other  allusions  to  the  tapster's  reckoning,  or  keeping 
account  with  customers,  cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  193  and  T.  and  C.  \.  2.  123. 

43.  Complete.  Accomplished.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  2.  118:  "This  man 
so  complete,"  etc. 

52.    The  dancing  horse.      A  famous  horse  of  the  time,  often  called 
"  Bankes'  horse  "  from  his  owner,  who  had  trained  him  to  perform  many 
remarkable  feats.     Raleigh,  in  his  Hist,  of  the  World,  says:   "If  Banks 
had  lived  in  older  times,  he  would  have  shamed  all  the  inchanters  in  the 
world ;  for  whosoever  was  most  famous  among  them  could  never  master 
or  instruct  any  beast  as  he  did  his  horse."    Steevens  quotes,  among  other 
allusions  to  the  animal,  B.  J.,  Every  Man  Out  of  His  Humour:   "  He  ^ 
keeps  more  ado  with  this  monster  than  ever  Bankes  did  with  his  horse  ;"   f   » 
and  the  same  author's  Epigrams : 

"  Old  Banks  the  jugler,  our  Pythagoras, 
Grave  tutor  to  the  learned  horse." 

In  France,  according  to  Bishop  Morton,  Bankes  "was  brought  into  sus- 
pition  of  magicke,  because  of  the  strange  feates  which  his  horse  Morocco 
plaied  at  Uneance  ;"  but  Bankes  having  made  the  beast  kneel  down  to 
a  crucifix  and  kiss  it,  "his  adversaries  rested  satisfied,  conceiving  (as  it 
might  seeme)  that  the  divell  had  no  power  to  come  neare  the  crosse." 
In  Rome  he  was  less  fortunate,  if  we  may  believe  Reed,  who  says  that 
both  horse  and  owner  were  there  burned  by  order  of  the  Pope.  Accord- 
ing to  other  authorities,  however,  Bankes  came  back  safe  to  London, 
and  was  still  living  in  King  Charles's  time,  a  jolly  vintner  in  Cheapside. 
For  fuller  accounts  of  him  and  his  horse,  see  Douce's  Illustrations, 
Chambers's  Book  of  Days,  or  Halliwell's  folio  ed. 

60.  Courtesy.  Curtsy  ;  used  by  men  as  well  as  women.  See  Much  Ado, 
p.  159. 

65.  Sweet  my  child.     My  sweet  child.     See  Gr.  13. 

82.  Green  indeed  is  the  colour  of  lovers.  Some  say,  because  of  its  asso- 
ciation with  jealousy,  "  the  green-eyed  monster ;"  others,  as  being  the 
colour  of  the  willow,  "  worn  of  forlorn  paramours  "  (cf.  Much  Ado,  p. 
169). 

85.  A  green  wit.  Probably,  as  the  Camb.  editors  remark,  there  is  an 
allusion  to  the  green  withes  with  which  Samson  was  bound.  See  p.  128 
above  (on  DRAMATIS  PERSON/E). 

87.  Maculate.  The  reading  of  the  ist  quarto ;  the  other  early  eds. 
have  "immaculate." 

92.  Pathetical.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  poetical." 

loo.  Native  she  doth  oive.  She  possesses  by  nature.  For  owe  — own, 
cf.  ii.  i.  6  below.  Gr.  290. 


I34  NOTES.  . 

103.  The  King  and  the  Beggar.  The  ballad  of  King  Cophetua  and  the 
Beggar-maid,  which  may  be  found  in  Percy's  Reliques.  F<>r  other  allu- 
sions to  it,  see  iv.  I.  64  below,  R.  and  J.  ii.  i.  14,  and  Rich.  II.  v.  3.  80. 

109.  Digression.  "  Going  out  of  the  right  way,  transgression  "  (Stee- 
vens). Cf.  R.  of  L.  202  : 

"Then  my  digression  is  so  vile,  so  base, 
That  it  will  live  engraven  in  my  face." 

Cf.  also  digressing  in  Rich.  II.  v.  3. 66. 

in.  Rational  hind.  Perhaps  Armado's  fantastic  way  of  expressing 
"  human  hind,"  hind  being  a  beast  (a  deer),  as  well  as  a  boor  ;  but  ra- 
tional may  be  a  misprint  for  "  irrational,"  as  Hanmer  regarded  it.  Far- 
mer objects  to  the  former  interpretation,  that  it  makes  Costard  a  female 
animal ;  but  Steevens  quotes  in  reply  J.  C.  i.  3.  106  :  "  He  were  no  lion, 
were  not  Romans  hinds." 

1 15.  A  light  wench.  S.  is  fond  of  playing  upon  the  different  senses  of 
light.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  130 : 

"  Let  me  give  light,  but  let  me  not  be  light ; 
For  a  light  wife  doth  make  a  heavy  husband." 

See  also  ii.  i.  197  and  v.  2.  25  below ;  and  for  light  —  wanton,  iv.  3.  380. 

119.  Let  him.  The  folio  reading  ;  the  1st  quarto  has  "suffer  him  to," 
and  in  the  next  line  "  a  "  for  he. 

121.  Day-woman.     Dairy- woman.     See  Wb. 

126.  That's  hereby.     "Hereby  is  used  by  her  (as  among  the  vulgar  in 
some  countries)  to  signify  as  it  may  happen  ;  he  takes  it  in  the  sense  of 
just  by  "  (Steevens).    We  have  it  in  the  latter  sense  in  iv.  I.  9  below.    The 
only  other  instance  of  the  word  in  S.  is  in  Rich.  If 7.  i.  4.  94. 

127.  Situate.     For  the  form,  see  Gr.  342. 

130.  With  that  face  ?  Steevens  says :  "  This  cant  phrase  has  oddly 
lasted  till  the  present  time ;  and  is  used  by  people  who  have  no  more 
meaning  annexed  to  it  than  Fielding  had,  who,  putting  it  into  the  mouth 
of  Beau  Didapper,  thinks  it  necessary  to  apologize  (in  a  note)  for  its 
want  of  sense,  by  adding  that  '  it  was  taken  verbatim  from  very  polite 
conversation.' " 

135.  Come,  Jaquenetta,  away!  Given  by  the  quartos  and  the  folio  to 
"  Clo."  (that  is,  Clown,  or  Costard)  ;  corrected  by  Theo.  The  next  speech 
is  given  by  the  ist  quarto  to  "  Ar."  by  the  1st  folio  to  "  Clo."  and  by  the 
later  folios  to  "  Con." 

141.  Fellows.     D.  and  H.  follow  Capell  in  reading  "followers." 

147.  Fast  and  loose.  A  quibbling  reference  to  the  cheating  game  so 
called.  See  K.  John,  p.  156,  and  cf.  iii.  I.  97  below. 

157.  Affect.  Love;  as  in  84  above.  Cf.  Much  Ado,\.  1.298:  "Dost 
thou  affect  her  ?"  etc. 

159.  Argument.    Proof;  as  in  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  243,  T.  N.  iii.  2.  12,  etc. 

161.  Familiar.  "Familiar  spirit,"  or  demon;  as  in  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7. 
1 14  :  "  he  has  a  familiar  under  his  tongue,"  etc.  Cf.  also  the  adjective  in 
Sonn.  86.  9 : 

"that  affable  familiar  ghost 
Which  nightly  gulls  him  with  intelligence." 


ACT  II.     SCENE   I. 


'35 


164.  Butt-shaft.   A  kind  of  arrow  used  for  shooting  at  butts,  or  targets. 
Cf.  R.andJ.y.  171. 

166.  The  first  and  second  cause,  etc.     Alluding  to  the  classified  causes 
of  quarrel  in  the  elaborate  duelling  science  of  the  time.    Cf.  Touchstone's 
ridicule  of  them  in  A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  52  fol.  ;  and  see  our  ed.  p.  198,  note  on 
By  the  book.     As  Saviolo's  book,  evidently  alluded  to  here,  was  printed 
in  1594,  this  passage  is  one  of  the  indications  of  the  revision  of  the  play 
before  the  publication  of  the  ist  quarto.     See  p.  10  above. 

167.  Passado.     A  thrust  in  fencing.     See  A",  and  J.  p.  171. 

170.  Manager.    Changed  in  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "  Armiger ;"  but  mannge 
is  often  used  of  arms.     Cf.  Rich.  II.  iii.  2.  118,  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  292,  301, 
R.  and  J.\.  I.  76,  etc. 

171.  Sonnet.     The  reading  of  all  the  early  eds.  changed  by  Hanmer  to 
"sonneteer,"  by  Capell  to  "sonneter,"  by  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "sonnet- 
maker,"  and  by  D.  to  "sonnetist."     V.  and  W.  rend  "turn  sonnets." 
Turn  sonnet  is  not  unlike  Armado.     Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  21  :  "  now  is  he 
turned  orthography;"  where  some  read  "  orthographer  "  or  "orthogra- 
phist." 


ACT   II. 

SCENE  I.— I.  Dearest.  Best,  highest.  Cf.  Temp.  p.  124,  note  on  Tht 
dear'st  o1  the  loss. 

2.    Who.     The  reading  of  the  quartos  and  1st  folio.     Gr.  274. 

6.  Owe.     See  on  i.  2.  100  above. 

16.  Chapmen.  Here  —sellers;  but  usually  =buyers,  as  in  T.and  C. 
iv.  I.  75.  Johnson  remarks :  '•'•cheap  or  cheaping  was  anciently  the  mar- 
ket ;  chapman  therefore  is  markftman."  Cf.  \Vb.  Uttered  is  here  used 
in  the  commercial  sense  of  "  made  to  pass  from  one  hand  to  another." 
See  R.  and  J.  p.  212.  The  meaning  of  the  passage  is  that  the  estimation 
of  beauty  depends  not  on  the  tongue  of  the  seller,  but  on  the  eye  of  the 
buyer.  Cf.  Sonn.  102.  4  : 

"That  love  is  merchandiz'd  whose  rich  esteeming 
The  owner's  tongue  doth  publish  everywhere." 

25.  To's  seemeth.  The  reading  of  all  the  early  eds. ;  changed  by  Pope 
to  "  to  us  seems."  Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4.  65  :  "  friends  to  's  welcome,"  etc. 

28.  Bold  of.     Confident  of,  trusting  in. 

32.  Importunes.     Accented  on  the  penult  by  S.     Cf.  Ham.  p.  190. 

39.  Lord  Longaville.   The  early  eds.  omit  Lord,  which  Capell  supplied. 

42.  Jaques.  Always  a  dissylla'ble  in  S.  Cf.  A.  W.  p.  160.  Solemnized 
is  here  accented  on  the  second  syllable.  See  Gr.  491. 

45.  Well  fitted  in  the  arts.  The  reading  of  the  2d  folio  ;  the  1st  folio 
and  the  quartos  omit  the.  W.  conjectures  "  In  arts  well  fitted."  "  Well 
fitted  is  -well  qualified"  (Johnson). 

57.   Of  all.     That  is,  by  all.     Gr.  170. 

60.    Though  he.     The  1st  folio  misprints  "she  "  for  he. 

62.  And  much  too  little,  etc.     "  And  my  report  of  the  good  I  saw  is 


I36  NOTES. 

much  too  little  compared  to  his  great  worthiness"  (Heath).  For  to,  see 
Gr.  187. 

68.  Hour's.     A  dissyllable  ;  as  often.     Gr.  480. 

72.  Conceit's  expositor.  The  exponent  of  his  thought.  For  the  use  of 
conceit  in  S.,  see  Rich.  II.  p.  181. 

82.  Competitors.     Associates,  partners.    See  T.  N.  p.  158,  or  A.  and  C. 

P-  175- 

83.  Addressed.     Prepared,  ready.     See  J.  C.  p.  156,  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  200. 
88.   Unpeopled.     The  reading  of  the  folios.     The  1st  quarto  has  "  un- 

peeled,"  which  the  Camb.  editors  adopt. 

102.  Where.  Whereas;  as  often.  See  Lear,  p.  179,  or  I  Hen.  IV. 
p.  187.  (Jr.  134. 

105.  And  sin  to  break  it.  Hanmer  changes  And  to  "Not;"  but,  as 
Johnson  remarks,  "  the  princess  shows  an  inconvenience  very  frequently 
attending  rash  oaths,  which,  whether  kept  or  broken,  produce  guiit." 

109.  Resolve.  Answer.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  2.  7  :  "  What,  master,  read  you  ? 
First  resolve  me  that,"  etc. 

118.  Long  of.  Owing  to,  because  of;  as  in  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  339  :  "  all 
this  coil  is  long  of  you,"  etc.  It  is  generally  printed  "'long  of"  in  the 
modern  eds.,  but  not  in  the  early  ones.  Along  of\\\  this  sense  does  not 
occur  in  S. 

123.  Fair  befall,  etc.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  282 :  "  Now  fair  befall  thee 
and  thy  noble  house  !"  etc.  Fair  fall  in  the  next  line  is  used  in  the  same 
sense  ;  as  in  K.  John,  i.  i.  78,  etc. 

130.  Being  but  the  one  half,  etc.  Cf.  the  reference  to  Monstrelet's 
Chronicle,  p.  12  above. 

146.  Depart.  Part.  Cf.  If.  John,  ii.  i.  563  :  "  Hath  willingly  departed 
with  a  part  ;"  and  see  the  note  in  our  ed.  p.  150. 

148.  Gelded.  Maimed  ;  a  favourite  figure  with  S.,  as  Steevens  notes. 
Cf.  IV.  T.  iv.  4.  623,  Rich.  II.  ii.  I.  237,  I  "Hen.  IV.  iii.  I.  1 10,  etc. 

167.  /  will.  The  reading  of  1st  quarto  ;  "  would  I  "  in  the  other  early 
eds. 

173.  As  you.     That  you.     Gr.  109. 

174.  Fair  harbour.     As  in  1st  quarto  ;  the  other  early  eds.  have  "far- 
ther "  for  fair.     The  Coll.  MS.  reads  "  free." 

176.  Shall  we.     The  folios  have  "  we  shall." 

179.  Lady,  I  will,  etc.  The  folios  give  this  and  the  next  five  speeches 
of  Biron  to  "  Boy." 

183.  Fool.  The  reading  of  ist  quarto;  the  folios  have  "soule"  or 
"soul." 

189.  No  point.  A  play  on  the  French  negative  point ;  as  in  v.  2.  278 
below.  No  point  was  sometimes  used  as  an  emphatic  negative.  Stee- 
vens quotes  The  Shoemaker's  Holiday,  1600  :  "  No  point.  Shall  I  betray 
my  brother  ?" 

193.  IVhat  lady,  etc.  Steevens  remarks :  "  It  is  odd  that  S.  should 
make  Dumain  inquire  after  Rosaline,  who  was  the  mistress  of  Biron,  and 
neglect  Katherine,  who  was  his  own.  Biron  behaves  in  the  same  man- 
ner. Perhaps  all  the  ladies  wore  masks  but  the  princess."  That  they 
did  is  evident  from  123  above.  D.  believes  that  the  masks  have  nothing 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 


137 


to  do  with  the  matter,  and  that  "  Katherine  "  should  be  substituted  for 
Rosaline  in  194,  and  "  Rosaline  "  for  Katherine  in  209  below. 

198.  Light  in  the  light.     See  on  i.  2.  115  above. 

202.  God's  blessing  on  your  beard !  "  That  is,  mayst  thou  have  sense 
and  seriousness  more  proportionate  to  thy  beard,  the  length  of  which 
suits  ill  with  such  idle  catches  of  wit !''  (Johnson). 

209.  Rosaline.     The  early  eds.  have  "  Katherine  ;"  corrected  by  Sr. 

217.  Grapple.  Like  board,  a  figure  taken  from  naval  warfare.  The 
play  on  ships  and  sheeps  indicates  that  the  words  were  pronounced  nearly 
alike.  We  find  the  same  quibble  in  C.  of  E.  iv.  i.  93  (see  our  ed.  p.  134) 
and  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  i.  73. 

222.  Though  several  they  be.  A  play  on  several,  which  meant  an  en- 
closed field  in  distinction  from  a  common.  Steevens  quotes,  among  other 
examples  of  the  word,  Holinshed,  Hist,  of  England :  "not  to  take  and 
pale  in  the  commons,  to  enlarge  their  severalls."  Though  seems  used 
somewhat  peculiarly,  and  has  been  explained  as  = since.  Cf.  T.  N.  p.  145, 
note  on  Though  it  be.  We  prefer  Staunton's  explanation  :  "  If  we  take 
both  as  places  devoted  to  pasture — the  one  for  general,  the  other  for  par- 
ticular use — the  meaning  is  easy  enough.  Boyet  asks  permission  to  graze 
on  her  lips.  'Not  so,'  she  answers;  'my  lips,  though  intended  for  the 
purpose,  are  not  for  general  use.'  " 

233.  Retire.     For  the  noun,  cf.  K.  John,  pp.  145,  146,  178. 

234.  Thorough.     Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  through.     See  M. 
of  V.  p.  144,  note  on  Throughjares. 

235.  Like  an  agate.      For  the  figures  cut  in  agates,  see  Much  Ado, 
p.  141,  or  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  153. 

237.  All  impatient  to  speak  and  not  see,  etc.  "  If  we  take  not  see  to  im- 
ply 'not  see,  because  it  is  not  the  tongue's  faculty  to  see,'  the  sentence 
means  that  his  tongue  hurried  to  his  eyes  that  it  might  express  what  they 
beheld"  (Clarke).  A  writer  in  the  Edin.  Mag.  (Nov.  1786)  explains  it : 
"his  tongue  envied  the  quickness  of  his  eyes,  and  strove  to  be  as  rapid 
in  his  utterance  as  they  in  their  perception."  Perhaps  Johnson  is  right 
in  making  it  ="  being  impatiently  desirous  to  see  as  well  as  speak."  D., 
after  remarking  that  the  passage  has  been  "utterly  misunderstood"  by 
Johnson,  paraphrases  it  thus  :  "His  tongue,  not  able  to  endure  the  hav- 
ing merely  the  power  of  speaking  without  that  of  seeing." 

240.  To  feel  only  looking.  Apparently  =  to  have  no  perception  but  that 
of  looking,  to  have  their  own  sense  transformed  to  that  of  sight. 

244.  Point  you.     Direct  you,  suggest  to  you  ;  the  reading  of  ist  quarto. 
The  folios  have  "point  out." 

245.  Margent.     Alluding  to  the  practice  of  putting  notes,  etc.,  in  the  • 
margin  of  books.     See  M.  Ar.  D.  p.  142,  or  Ham.  p.  272  (note  on  Edified 
by  the  margent}. 

249.  Di'pos'd.  "  Inclined  to  merriment "  (Schmidt) ;  "  inclined  to  rath- 
er loose  mirth,  somewhat  wantonly  merry"  ( D. ).  Schmidt  gives  the 
word  the  same  sense  in  v.  2.  468  below,  and  in  T.  N.  ii.  3.  88.  D.  cites 
examples  of  it  from  Peele  and  B.  and  F.  Boyet  parries  the  reproof  by 
taking  the  word  in  its  ordinary  meaning. 


138 


NOTES. 


ACT   III. 

SCENE  I. — 2.  Concolinel.  Evidently  a  scrap  of  a  song,  but  whether 
the  beginning  or  the  burden  of  it,  the  title  or  the  tune,  it  is  impossible  to 
determine.  The  songs  in  the  old  plays  were  ofien  omitted  in  the  manu- 
scripts and  printed  copies,  being  indicated,  as  here,  by  some  abbrevia- 
tion, or  merely  by  a  stage-direction,  as  "  Here  they  sing"  or  the  Latin 
"  Cantant." 

4.  Festinately.     Hastily,  quickly.     CLfestinate  in  Lear,  iii.  7.  10. 

6.  Master.     Not  in  the  folios. 

7.  Brawl.     A  kind  of  dance  (Fr.  brattle).     "  It  was  performed  by  sev- 
eral persons  uniting  hands  in  a  circle  and  giving  each  other  continual 
shakes,  the  steps  changing  with  the  time "  (Douce).     Steevens  quotes 
B.  J.,  Time  Vindicated : 

"The  Graces  did  them  footing  teach; 
And,  at  the  old  Idalian  brawls, 
They  danc'd  your  mother  down." 

10.  Canary  to  it.     The  canary  was  a  lively  dance.     Cf.  A.  \V.  ii.  I.  77  : 

"make  you  dance  canary 
With  spritely  fire  and  motion." 

and  see  our  ed.  p.  147. 

11.  Turning  up  your  eye.     The  folio  reading  ;  the  ist  quarto  has  "  eye- 
lids "  for  eye. 

Sometime.     Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  sometimes. 

14.  Penthouse  -  like.  Like  a  penthouse,  a  porch  with  a  sloping  roof, 
common  in  the  domestic  architecture  of  the  time  of  S.  There  was  one 
on  the  house  in  which  tradition  says  he  was  born.  The  accompanying 
cut  is  copied  from  an  old  print.  For  penthouse,  cf.  Much  Ado,  iii.  3.  no, 
and  M.  of  V.  ii.  6.  i. 


v     >'       :i||       aJS|IM|l: 
w  B  at •  •  a  i  lliBS  •  v  i  •  o . . .  i  S; 

'^     i       i  •irrrliii 

I  ,  I    JllllUlr    !iiiJK 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 


139 


15.  Thin-belly  doublet.  Many  of  the  modern  eds.  have  "thin  belly- 
doublet;"  but  the  ist  quarto  reads  "thin  bellies"  and  the  folios  "thin- 
bellie,"  "  thinebellie,"  or  "thin-belly."  Cf.  the  description  of  the  thick- 
bellied  doublets  in  Stubbes's  Anatomie  of  Abuses,  1583:  "Their  dub- 
lettes  are  noe  lesse  monstrous  than  the  reste  ;  For  now  the  fashion  is 
to  haue  them  hang  dovvne  to  the  middest  of  their  theighes  .  .  .  beeing  so 
harde-quilted,  and  stuffed,  bombasted  and  sewed,  as  they  can  verie  hardly 
eyther  stoupe  downe,  or  decline  them  selues  to  the  grounde,  soe  styffe 
and  sturdy  they  stand  about  them  .  .  .  Now,  what  handsomnes  can  be  in 
these  dubblettes  whiche  stand  on  their  bellies  like,  ...  (so  as  their  bel- 
lies are  thicker  than  all  their  bodyes  besyde)  let  wise  men  iudge ;  For 
for  my  parte,  handsomnes  in  them  I  see  none,  and  muche  lesse  profyte. 
.  .  .  Certaine  I  am  there  was  neuer  any  kinde  of  apparell  euer  inuented 
that  could  more  disproportion  the  body  of  man  than  these  Dublets  with 
great  bellies,  .  .  .  stuffed  with  foure,  flue  or  six  pound  of  Bombast  at  the 
least."  For  bombast,  as  here  used,  see  on  v.  2.  771  below. 

17.  After  the  old  painting.     "  It  was  a  common  trick  among  some  of 
the  most  indolent  of  the  ancient  masters,  to  place  the  hands  in  the  bosom 
or  the  pockets,  or  conceal  them  in  some  other  part  of  the  drapery,  to 
avoid  the  labour  of  representing  them,  or  to  disguise  their  own  want  of 
skill  to  employ  them  with  grace  and  propriety"  (Steevens). 

18.  Complements.     Changed  by   Hanmer  to  " 'complishments;"   but 
that  was  a  common  meaning  of  the  word.     See  on  i.  I.  166  above. 

20.  Do  you  note  me  ?  Hanmer's  reading.  The  folio  has  "  and  make 
them  men  of  note  :  do  you  note  men  that  most  are  affected  to  these  ?" 

23.  By  my  penny  of  observation.  Alluding  to  the  famous  old  piece 
called  A  Penniworth  of  Wit  (Farmer).  The  Coll.  MS.  changes  penny 
("  penne  "  in  the  ist  quarto  and  ist  folio)  to  "  paine." 

25.  The  hobby-horse  is  forgot.  Moth  follows  up  the  "But  O,  but  O — " 
with  the  remainder  of  a  line  in  an  old  song  bewailing  the  omission  of  the 
hobby-horse  from  the  May  games.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  142  :  "or  else  shall 
he  suffer  not  thinking  on,  with  the  hobby-horse,  whose  epitaph  is  '  For, 
O,  for,  O,  the  hobby-horse  is  forgot!'"  See  also  B.  J.,  Entertainment 
at  Althorpe :  "But  see,  the  hobby-horse  is  forgot;"  B.  and  F.,  Women 
Pleased,  iv.  i  :  "  Shall  the  hobby-horse  be  forgot  then  ?"  etc.  This  omis- 
sion is  said  to  have  been  due  to  the  opposition  made  by  the  Puritans  to 
the  morris-dances  of  the  May  festivities.  For  a  full  account  of  these 
games,  see  Douce's  Illustrations  or  Brand's  Popular  Antiquities.  The 
hobby-horse,  says  Toilet,  "is  a  spirited  horse  of  pasteboard,  in  which  the 
master  dances  and  displays  tricks  of  legerdemain."  A  ladle  was  hung 
from  the  horse's  mouth  for  receiving  money  given  by  the  lookers-on. 

45.  Message.  Changed  in  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "messenger;"  but  the 
meaning  seems  to  be  that  the  foolish  message  is  well  sympathized  (or 
has  its  appropriate  counterpart)  in  the  foolish  messenger. 

60.  Vohtble.  The  folio  reading;  the  ist  quarto  has  " volable,"  which 
the  Camb.  ed.  retains.     For  free  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "fair." 

61.  By  thy  favour,  etc.    "Welkin  is  the  sky,  to  which  Armado,  with  the 
false  dignity  of  a  Spaniard,  makes  an  apology  for  sighing  in  its  face  " 
(Johnson). 


140 


NOTES. 


62.  Most  rude.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  moist-eyed." 

64.  A  costard  broken,  etc.  He  plays  on  the  word  costard,  which  was 
used  jocosely  for  head.  See  Lear,  p.  248,  or  Rich.  III.  p.  195. 

66.  No  salve  in  them  all.  The  early  eds.  have  "  in  thee  male  "  or  "  in 
the  male."  Capell  reads  "in  the  matter,"  and  Johnson  conjectured  "in 
the  mail "  (that  is,  in  the  bag)  or  "  in  the  vale."  The  reading  in  the  text 
was  suggested  by  Tyrwhitt.  It  may  be  noted  that  mail  is  not  used  by  S, 
except  in  T.  and  C.  iii.  3.  52,  where  it  is  =  armour.  As  Clarke  says. 
Costard  seems  to  take  enigma,  riddle,  and  Venvoy  to  be  various  kinds  of 
salve.  On  the  virtue  of  the  plantain  for  a  broken  shin,  cf.  K.  and  J.  i.  2.  52  : 

"  Romeo.  Your  plantain-leaf  is  excellent  for  that. 
Benvolio.  For  what,  I  pray  thee? 
Romeo.  For  your  broken  shin." 

Broken,  by  the  way,  means  bruised  so  as  to  be  bloody.  See  R.  and  J. 
p.  51,  note  on  the  passage  just  quoted. 

74.  Is  not  r  envoy  a  salve  ?  Some  see  here  a  pun  on  salve  and  the  Latin 
salve,  which  was  used  sometimes  as  a  parting  salutation. 

77.  To/ore.  Cf.  T.  A.  iii.  i.  294:  "as  thou  tofore  hast  been."  Sain  is 
Armado's  rhyming  "  license  "  for  said.  The  folio  has  "  faine." 

86.  Adding.     Here  and  in  92  below  the  Coll.  MS.  reads  "making." 

95.  The  boy  hath  sold  him  a  bargain.  "  This  comedy  is  running  over 
with  allusions  to  country  sports — one  of  the  many  proofs  that,  in  its  orig- 
inal shape,  it  may  be  assigned  to  the  author's  greenest  years.  The  sport 
which  so  delights  Costard,  about  the  fox,  the  ape,  and  the  humble-bee, 
has  been  explained  by  Capell,  whose  lumbering  and  obscure  comments 
upon  Shakespeare  have  been  pillaged  and  sneered  at  by  the  other  com- 
mentators. In  this  instance,  they  take  no  notice  of  him.  It  seems,  ac- 
cording to  Capell,  that  'selling  a  bargain'  consisted  in  drawing  a  person 
in,  by  some  stratagem,  to  proclaim  himself  fool,  by  his  own  lips  ;  and 
thus,  when  Moth  makes  his  master  repeat  the  renvoy,  ending  in  the 
goose,  he  proclaims  himself  a  goose,  according  to  the  rustic  wit,  which 
Costard  calls  selling  a  bargain  -well"  (K). 

97.  Fast  and  loose.     A  cheating  game.     See  on  i.  2.  147  above. 

104.  And  he  ended  the  market.  Alluding  to  the  proverb  "Three 
women  and  a  goose  make  a  market"  (Steevens). 

108.  No  feeling  of  it.  Costard  plays  on  sensibly,  which  sometimes 
meant  feelingly  in  the  literal  sense.  Cf.  Cor.  p.  207. 

1 14.  Marry,  Costard,  etc.  The  folio  has  "  Sirra,  Costard,"  etc.  Mar- 
ry is  the  conjecture  of  K.  and  is  favoured  by  the  reply.  The  Coll.  MS. 
has  "  Sirrah  Costard,  marry,"  etc. 

118.  Immured.     As  in  2d  folio,  the  earlier  eds.  having  "emured." 

121,  122.  Let  me  loose  .  .  .  set  thee  from  durance.  H.  adopts  Brae's 
transposition  of  let  and  set.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "let  me  be  loose"  and 
"set  thee  free  from  durance."  The  style  of  Costard  and  Armado  hardly 
calls  for  such  tinkering. 

125.  Ward.  Guard,  preservation.  For  its  use  as  a  term  in  fencing 
(  =  posture  of  defence),  see  Temp.  p.  122. 

127.  Like  the  sequel.  That  is,  like  the  sequel  of  a  story.  Some  have 
fancied  an  allusion  to  the  French  sequelle,  a  gang  of  followers. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 


141 


128.  Incony.  Apparently  =fine,  delicate.  Nares  cites  examples  oi 
the  word  from  B.  J.,  Marlowe,  and  others. 

129-135.  0'  my  troth  .  .  .  nit !  In  the  early  eds.  these  lines  are  printed 
in  iv.  I,  after  line  136  :  "  Lord,  lord,  how  the  ladies  and  I  have  put  him 
down  !"  There  they  are  evidently  out  of  place,  and  St.  conjectured  that 
they  belong  here.  H.  was  the  first  to  make  the  transposition.  There 
is  no  line  rhyming  to  133,  and  some  suppose  one  to  have  been  lost; 
but  it  is  quite  as  probable,  as  H.  suggests,  that  133  is  either  an  interpo- 
lation, or  a  line  struck  out  by  the  poet  in  revising  the  play,  but  acciden- 
tally retained  by  the  transcriber  or  printer.  See  on  iv.  3.  294  below. 

131.  Armado  <?  tJi  one  side.  The  1st  quarto  has  "  Armatho  ath  too- 
then  side,"  and  the  folio  "  Armathor  ath  to  the  side."  The  text  is  due 
to  Rowe.  W.  reads  "  Armado  o'  th'  to  side" — "the  to  side"  being  an 
old  expression  for  "  the  hither  side." 

133.  To  see  him,  etc.  The  Coil.  MS.  fills  out  the  couplet  with  "  Look- 
ing babies  in  her  eyes  his  passion  to  declare." 

135.  Pathetical.  The  word  has  already  been  used  by  Armado  in  i.  2. 
92  above.  Just  what  either  he  or  Costard  means  by  it  must  be  matter 
of  conjecture.  S.  has  it  nowhere  else,  except  in  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  i.  196,  where 
it  appears  to  be  also  an  affectation.  See  our  ed.  p.  187.  For  the  per- 
sonal use  of  nit,  cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  1 10,  the  only  other  instance  of  the 
word  in  S. 

138.  Inkle.     Tape.     Cf.  W.  T.  p.  196. 

150.  Good  my  knave.  My  good  boy.  See  on  i.  2.  65  above.  For 
knai-i  —boy,  servant,  cl.  A.  >md  (,'.  p.  207,  or  M.  of  J'.  p.  137. 

169.  In' print.     To  the  letter.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  p.  131. 
Schmidt  explains  it  as  "sad."     Hanmer  reads  "amorous."' 

173.  Critic.     Carper;  the  only  sense  in  S.     Cf.  Sonn.  112.  10  and  T. 
and  C.  v.  2.  131.     See  also  on  iv.  3.  165  below. 

174.  Pedant.     Pedagogue;   the  only  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  T.  AT.  iii.  2. 
So  :  "  A  pedant  that  keeps  a  school  i'  the  church,"  etc. 

175.  Magnificent.     Pompous,  boastful  ;  used  by  S.  only  here  and  in  i. 
i.  1 88  above. 

176.  Wimpled.     Hoodwinked,  blindfolded.     Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  i.  i.  4 : 

"Yet  she  much  whiter;  but  the  same  did  hide 
Under  a  veil  that  wimpled  was  full  low ;" 

that  is,  drawn  close  about  her  face,  like  a  wimple,  a  kind  of  veil.     Cf. 
F.  Q.  i.  12.  22  : 

"  For  she  had  layd  her  mournefull  stole  aside, 
And  widow-like  sad  wimple  thrown  away." 

181.  Plackets.  Explained  by  some  as  =stomachers ;  by  others  as 
=  petticoats,  or  the  slit  or  opening  in  those  garments.  Placket-hole  (cf. 
Wb.)  is  still  used  for  the  slit  in  a  petticoat. 

The  codpiece  was  a  part  of  the  breeches  in  front,  made  very  conspic- 
uous in  the  olden  time. 

183.  Paritors.  The  same  as  apparitors,  officers  of  ecclesiastical  courts 
whose  duty  it  was  to  serve  citations.  Johnson  says  that  they  are  put 


142 


NOTES. 


under  Cupid's  government  because  the  citations  were  most  frequently 
issued  for  offences  against  chastity. 

184.  A  corporal  of  his  field.     Farmer  says:  "Giles  Clayton,  in  his 
Martial  Discipline,  1591,  has  a  chapter  on  the  office  and  duty  of  a  cor- 
poral of  the  field."     According  to  Tyrwhitt,  his  duties  were  similar  to 
those  of  an  aide-de-camp  now. 

185.  Like  a  tumbler's  hoop.    Alluding  to  its  being  adorned  with  colour- 
ed ribbons. 

187.  A  German  clock.     Clocks  were  then  chiefly  imported  from  Ger- 
many, and  the  dramatists  of  the  time  were  fond  of  comparing  the  femi- 
nine "make-up"  to  their  intricate  machinery.     Steevens  cites,  among 
other  passages,  Weshvard  Hoe,  1607  :  "  no  German  clock,  no  mathemati- 
cal engine  whatsoever,  requires  so  much  reparation  ;"  and  A  Mad  World, 
my  Masters,  1608 : 

"  She  consists  of  a  hundred  pieces, 
Much  like  your  German  clock,  and  near  allied : 
Both  are  so  nice  they  cannot  go  for  pride." 

188.  Out  of  frame.     Out  of  order  ;  as  in  Ham.  i.  2.  20  :  "  disjoint  and 
out  of  frame." 

189.  Cuing  right.    The  early  eds.  have  "aright ;"  corrected  by  Capell. 
193.    Wightly.     The    early  eels,  have  "whitly"   or    "whitely."  which 

some  explain  as  =whitish,  pale  (D.  makes  it  =  sallow) ;  but  Rosaline  was 
dark.  It  seems  probable  that  the  word  was  a  misspelling  of  wightly, 
which  the  Camb.  editors  substitute,  and  which  means  nimble,  sprightly. 
Spenser  has  both  wightly  and  wight  in  this  sense,  and  the  latter  is  found 
in  Chaucer;  as  in  C.  T.  14273  (Tyrwhitt's  ed.) :  "  With  any  yong  man, 
were  he  never  so  wight,"  etc.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  witty." 

195.  Do  the  deed.    Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3.  86  :  "  And  in  the  doing  of  the  deed 
of  kind,"  etc. 

196.  Argus.     For  other  allusions  to  the  hundred-eyed  guardian  of  lo, 
see  M.  of  V.  v.1.  230  and  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  31. 

201.  Sue,  and  groan.     The  1st  quarto  and  1st  folio  omit  and. 

202.  Joan.    Often  ~a  peasant,  or  a  woman  in  humble  life.    Cf.  v.  2.  908 
below.     See  also  K.  John,  i.  1. 184:  "now  can  I  make  any  Joan  a  lady." 


ACT   IV. 

SCENE  I. — I.  Was  that  the  kin«,  etc.  "  This  is  just  one  of  those 
touches  that  S.  throws  in,  to  mark  the  way  in  which  a  woman  uncon- 
sciously betrays  her  growing  preference  for  a  man  who  loves  her.  The 
princess  recognizes  the  horseman,  though  he  is  at  such  a  distance  that 
her  attendant  lord  is  unable  to  distinguish  whether  it  be  the  king  or  not; 
and  then  she  immediately  covers  her  self-betrayal  by  the  pretendedly  in- 
different words,  Whoever  he  was,  etc.  S.  in  no  one  of  his  wondrous  and 
numerous  instances  of  insight  into  the  human  heart  more  marvellously 
manifests  his  magic  power  of  perception  than  in  his  discernment  of  the 
workings  of  female  nature  ;  its  delicacies,  its  subtleties,  its  reticences,  its 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  2. 


143 


revelations,  its  innocent  reserves,  and  its  artless  confessions.  He,  of  all 
masculine  writers,  was  most  truly  feminine  in  his  knowledge  of  what 
passes  within  a  woman's  heart,  and  the  multiform  ways  in  which  it 
expresses  itself  fhrough  a  woman's  acts,  words,  manner — nay  even  her 
very  silence.  He  knew  the  eloquence  of  a  look,  the  significance  of  a 
gesture,  the  interpretation  of  a  tacit  admission  ;  and,  moreover,  he  knew 
how  to  convey  them  in  his  might  of  expression  by  ingenious  inference  " 
(Clarke). 

10.  Stand.  Used  in  the  technical  sense  of  the  hunter's  station  or  hid- 
ing-place when  waiting  for  game.  See  Cynib.  p.  182.  K.  remarks: 
"Royal  and  noble  ladies,  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth,  delighted  in  the  some- 
what unrefined  sport  of  shooting  deer  with  a  cross-bow.  In  the  'alleys 
green'  of  Windsor  or  of  Greenwich  parks,  the  queen  would  take  her 
stand,  on  an  elevated  platform,  and,  as  the  pricket  or  the  buck  was  driven 
past  her,  would  aim  the  death-shaft,  amid  the  acclamations  of  her  admir- 
ing courtiers.  The  ladies,  it  appears,  were  skilful  enough  at  this  sylvan 
butchering.  Sir  Francis  Leake  writes  to  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury — 
'  Your  lordship  has  sent  me  a  very  great  and  fat  stag,  the  welcomer  be- 
ing stricken  by  your  right  honourable  lady's  hand.'  The  practice  was  as 
old  as  the  romances  of  the  Middle  Ages.  But,  in  those  days,  the  ladies 
were  sometimes  not  so  expert  as  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  ;  for,  in  the 
history  of  Prince  Arthur,  a  fair  huntress  wounds  Sir  Launcelot  of  the 
Lake,  instead  of  the  stag  at  which  she  aims." 

17.  Fair.    For  its  use  as  a  noun,  cf.  M.N.D.  p.  130,  note  on  Your  fair. 

18.  Good  my  glass.    My  good  glass  ;  referring  sportively  to  the  forester. 
Johnson  supposed  the  glass  to  be  "  a  small  mirror  set  in  gold  hanging  at 
her  girdle,'' according  to  the  fashion   of  French  ladies  at  that  time — and 
of  English  ladies  also,  as  Stubbes    tells  us  in  his  Anatomic  of  Abuses : 
"they'must  hatie  their  looking  glasses  caryed  with  them  whersoeuer  they 
go.    'And  good  reason,  for  els  how  cold  they  see  the  deuil  in  them  ?" 

35.  That  my  heart  means  no  ill.      That  is,  means  no  ill  to.      That  is 
treated  like  the  dative  him  in  "never  meant  him  any  ill  "  (2  Hen.  VI.  ii. 
3.91),  etc. 

36.  Curst.     Shrewish.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  167. 

Self-sovereignty.  "  Not  a  sovereignty  over,  but  in  themselves.  So  self- 
sufficiency,  self-consequence,  etc."  (Mason).  Schmidt  takes  it  to  be  -  "  that 
self  sovereignty,"  or  that  same  sovereignty.  Cf.  Gr.  20. 

37.  Praise  sake.     See  Cor.  p.  231  (on  Conscience  sake},  or  Gr.  217,471. 

41.  The  commonwealth.    That  is,  of  the  "  new-modelled  society  "  of  the 
king  and  his  associates  (Mason).     Johnson  makes  it  —"the  common 
people."     The  Var.  of  1821  gives  this  line  to  the  princess ;  not  noted  in 
the  Camb.  ed. 

42.  God  dig-you-den.     God  give  you  good  even.     See  R.  and  J.  p.  148 
(note  on  Good-den},  or  Hen.  V.  p.  164  (note  on  God-den}. 

56.  Break  up  this  capon.  That  is,  open  this  letter.  Here  break  up  is 
=-the  preceding  carve.  It  is  applied  to  opening  a  despatch  (the  "sealed- 
up  oracle")  in  W.  7^11.2.  132:  "Break  up  the  seals  and  read."  See 
also  M.  of  V.  ii.  4.  10  :  "  to  break  up  this  "  (a  letter),  and  the  note  in  our 
ed.  p.  141. 


144 


NOTES. 


Capon  is  used  \\Vitpoulelm  French  for  a  love-letter.  Farmer  quotes 
Henry  IV.  as  saying :  "  My  niece  of  Guise  would  please  me  best,  not- 
withstanding the  malicious  reports  that  she  loves poulets  in  paper  better 
than  in  a  fricasee." 

57.  Importeth.     Concerneth. 

64.  Illustrate.   Illustrious ;  used  again  by  Holofernes  in  v.  I.  109  be- 
low.   It  is  often  used  by  Chapman  ;  as  in  Iliad,  xi. :  "  Illustrate  Hector." 
For  King  Cophetua,  see  on  i.  2.  103  above. 

65.  Zenelophon.     Coll.  reads  "  Penelophon,"  which  is  the  name  in  the 
ballad. 

66.  Annothanize.     The  quartos  and  ist  folio  have  "  annothanize,"  the 
later  folios  "  anatomize,"  which  many  eds.  follow.     Either  word  would 
suit  Armado  well  enough. 

83-88.  Thus  dost  than  hear,  etc.  These  lines  are  appended  to  the  let- 
ter as  a  quotation,  and  Warb.  thought  that  they  were  really  from  some 
ridiculous  poem  of  the  time. 

The  Nemean  lion  is  mentioned  again  in  Ham.  i.  4.  83,  where  Nemean 
is  accented  as  here. 

88.  Repasture.     Repast,  food. 

92.  Going  o'er  it.  For  the  play  upon  style,  see  on  i.  i.  196  above. 
Erewhile^=\o&\.  now. 

94.  Phantasime.  Fantastic;  as  in  v.  i.  18  below.  The  later  folios 
have  "  phantasme,"  and  most  of  the  modern  eds.  "phantasm." 

Monarchowzs  the  name  of  an  Italian,  a  fantastic  character  of  the  time, 
referred  to  by  Meres,  Nash,  Churchyard,  and  other  writers. 

103.  Suitor.     This  seems  to  have  been  pronounced  shooter,  and  that  is 
the  spelling  of  the  early  eds.  here.     Steevens  and  Malone  quote  sundry 
passages  from  contemporary  writers  illustrating  the  old  pronunciation. 
In  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  105,  Pope  and  Malone  took  the  "  suites  "  or  "  suits  "  of 
the  folio  to  be  an  error  for  "shoots." 

104.  Afy  continent  of  beauty.     Cf.  ffam.v.2.  115:   "you  shall  find  in 
him  the  continent  of  what  part  a  gentleman  would  see." 

109.  Your  deer.  The  play  on  deer  and  dear  was  a  favourite  one.  Cf. 
V.  and  /*.  231,  P.  P.  300,  M.  IV.  v.  5. 18,  123,  T.  </ S.  v.  2.  56,  I  Hen.  IV. 
v.  4.  107,  Macb.  iv.  3. 206,  etc. 

no.  By  the  horns.    The  much-worn  joke  on  the  horns  of  the  cuckold. 

118.  Queen  Guinever.     The  unfaithful  queen  of  Arthur. 

127.  Prick.     The  point  in  the  centre  of  the  mark,  or  target. 
Mete  at.     To  measure  with  the  eye  in  aiming,  hence  to  aim  at. 

128.  Wide  o"  the  bow-hand.     "  A  good  deal  to  the  left  of  the  mark  ;  a 
term  still  retained  in  modern  archery"  (Douce).     The  bow-hand  was  the 
hand  holding  the  bow,  or  the  left  hand. 

129.  Clout.     "  The  white  mark  at  which  archers  took  their  aim.     The 
pin  was  the  wooden  pin  that  upheld  it"  (Steevens).     See  2  Hen.  IV. p. 
1 76  (note  on  Clapped  /'  the  clout)  and  R.  and  J.  p.  1 70  ( The  very  pin,  etc.) 

132.   Greasily.     Grossly. 

134.  Rubbing.     A  term  in  bowling.     CL  Rich.  If.  p.  197,  note  on  Rubs 
136.     Lord,  Lord,  etc.     Here  the  early  eds.  (and  the  modern  ones  ex- 
cept H.)  insert  the  seven  lines,  iii.  i.  129-135  above. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  145 

137.  Sola,  sola  !  Costard  hears  the  noise  of  the  hunters,  and  runs  to 
join  them,  with  a  shout  to  attract  their  attention.  Cf.  M.of  V.  v.  1.39, 
where  Launcelot  enters  with  the  same  cry. 

SCENE  II  — 3.  Sanguis,.in  blood.  Changed  by  Capell  to  "in  sanguis, 
blood."  ///  blood  was  a  term  of  the  chase  =in  full  vigour.  Cf.  I  Hen.  VI. 
iv.  2.  48:  "  If  we  be  English  deer,  be  then  in  blood,"  etc. 

4.  Pomewater.  A  kind  of  apple.  Steevens  quotes  an  old  ballad : 
"  Whose  cheeks  did  resemble  two  rosting  pomewaters."  In  The  Puri- 
tan, "  the  pomewater  of  his  eye  "  is  =the  apple  of  his  eye. 

10.  A  buck  of  the  first  head.  According  to  The  Retu  t'nfrom  Parnassus, 
1606  (quoted  by  Steevens,;,  "  a  buck  is  the  first  year,  a  fawn ;  the  second 
year,  a  pricket ;  the  third  year,  a  sorrell ;  the  fourth  year,  a  soare ;  the 
fifth,  a  buck  of  the  first  head  ;  the  sixth  year,  a  compleat  buck." 

17.  Unconfirmed.  Inexperienced,  ignorant;  as  in  Much  Ado,  iii.  3. 
124:  "That  shows  thou  art  unconfirmed." 

21.  T-wice-sod.  Sod,  like  sodden,  is  the  participle  of  seethe.  CLR.of 
Z..  1592:  "sod  in  tears,"  etc.  Twice-sod  ^/w//^;'/y=concentrated  stu- 
pidity, as  if  boiled  down. 

28.  Which  we,  etc.  In  the  folio  this  reads  :  "  which  we  taste  and  feel- 
ing, are  for  those  parts,"  etc.  Various  emendations  have  been  proposed, 
of  which  Tyrwnitt's  in  the  text  seems  the  best,  and  is  adopted  by  the 
majority  of  recent  editors. 

30.  Patch.  A  play  on  the  word  in  its  sense  of  fool,  for  which  see  M. 
of  V.  p.  142,  or  M.  N.  D.  p.  160.  Johnson  says :  "  The  meaning  is,  to  be 
in  a  school  would  as  ill  become  a  patch  as  folly  would  become  me."  The 
Coll.  M  S.  has  "  set  "  for  see. 

35.  Dictynna.  One  of  the  names  of  Diana.  The  early  eds.  have 
"Dictisima"  or  "  Dictissima  "  here,  and  "Dictima"  or  "Dictinna"  in 
the  next  line.  Steevens  suggests  that  S.  may  have  found  the  word  in 
Golding's  Ovid:  "  Dictynna  garded  with  her  traine,  and  proud  of  killing 
deere." 

39.  Rnught.     An  old  past,  tense  and  participle  of  reach.     For  its  use 
as  the  former,  cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  6.  21  ;  and  as  the  latter,  A.  and  C.  iv.  9.  30. 
The  folios  have  "  wrought  "  here,  the  ist  quarto  "  rought." 

40.  The  allusion  holds  in  the  exchange.     "  The  riddle  is  as  good  when 
I  use  the  name  of  Adam  as  when  I  use  the  name  of  Cain"  (Warb.). 
Mr.  Brae  takes  allusion  to  be  used  in  the  strict  Latin  sense  of  "  play, 
joke,  or  jest,"  and  makes  exchange  —  '*  the  changing  of  the  moon." 

52.  Affect  the  letter.     "  Practise  alliteration  "  (Mason).     For  another 
satire  on  this  affectation  of  the  time,  cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  1. 145  fol. ;  and  see 
our  ed.  p.  184. 
.    54.  Preyful.     The  2d  folio  has  "  praysfull." 

55.  Some  say  a  sore.  For  sore,  or  soare,  as  applied  to  a  deer  "  of  the 
fourth  year,"  see  on  10  above  ;  also  for  snrel  in  the  next  line. 

58.  O  sore  Z.  The  ist  quarto  has  "o  sorell,"  and  the  folios  "  O  so- 
rell."  The  reading  in  the  text  is  Capell's,  and  is  generally  adopted.  The 
Camb.  ed.  has  "makes  fifty  sores  one  sorel,"  which  is  plausible  and  per- 
haps favoured  by  the  next  line. 

K 


146  NOTES. 

61.  If  a  talent  be  a  claw.  The  play  on  talent  and  talon  is  obvious.  The 
latter  word  was  sometimes  written  talent.  Malone  cites,  among  other 
instances,  Marlowe's  Tamburlaine,  1590: 

"  and  now  doth  ghastly  death 
With  greedy  tallents  gripe  my  bleeding  heart." 

Claw  was  sometimes  =humour.  flatter.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  1.3.  18:  "claw 
no  man  in  his  humour  ;''  and  see  our  eel.  p.  126. 

67.  Pin  mater.  The  membrane  covering  the  brain,  used  for  the  brain 
itself;  as  in  T.  N.  i.  5.  123  and  T.  and  C.\\.  I.  77.  Here  the  early  eds. 
have  "  primater  ;"  corrected  by  Rowe. 

Upon  the  mellowing  of  occasion.  At  "  the  very  riping  of  the  time  "  (M. 
of  V.  ii.  8.  40),  or  when  the  fit  occasion  comes. 

78.  Person.  "  Parson  "  (the  reading  of  the  ad  folio).  Steevens  quotes 
Holinshed:  "Jerom  was  vicar  of  Stepnie,  and  Garrard  was  person  of 
Honielane,"  etc.  St.  adds  from  Selden,  Table  Talk:  "Though  we  write 
Parson  differently,  yet 't  is  but  Person  ;  that  is,  the  individual  Person  set 
apart  for  the  service  of  the  Church,  and  't  is  in  Latin  Persona,  and  Per- 
sonatus  is  a  Personage"  For  the  play  on  pierce  (which  was  perhaps  pro- 
nounced perse},  cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  201,  note  on  /  '// pierce  him. 

90.  Mantuan.  Giovanni  Battista  Spagnuoli  (or  Spagnoli),  named  Man- 
tuanus  from  uis  birthplace,  who  died  in  1516,  was  the  author  of  certain 
Eclogues  which  the  pedants  of  that  day  preferred  to  Virgil's,  and  which 
were  read  in  schools.  The  ist  Eclogue  be'gins  with  the  passage  quoted 
by  Holofernes.  Malone  quotes  references  to  Mantuanus  from  Nash  and 
Drayton.  A  translation  of  his  Latin  poems  by  George  Turbervile  was 
printed  in  1567. 

92.  Venelia,  etc.  In  the  folio  this  reads  :  "vemchie,  vencha,  qtie  non  te 
vnde,  qne  non  te  perreche,"  which  exactly  follows  the  1st  quarto.  The  text 
is  taken  by  the  Camb.  editors  from  Florio's  Second  frtttes,  1591,  whence 
the  poet  probably  got  it.  There  it  has  the  second  line,  "  Ma  chi  te  vede, 
ben  gli  costa."  In  Howell's  Letters,  it  appears  with  a  translation,  thus : 

"  Veiiutia,  Yenetia,  chi  non  te  vede,  non_te  pregia, 
Ma  chi  t'  ha  troppo  veduto  te  dispregia. 
Venice,  Venice,  none  thee  unseen  can  prize ; 
Who  thee  hath  seen  too  much,  will  thee  despise." 

It  is  usually  printed  in  the  form  in  which  Theo.  gives  it: 

"Vinegia,  Vinegia, 
Chi  non  te  vede,  ei  non  te  pregia." 

101.  If  love,  etc.  This  sonnet  appears,  with  a  few  verbal  variations,  in 
P.  P.  v.  See  p.  1 1  above. 

105.  Bias.  Originally  a  term  in  bowling,  See  Ham.  p.  200  (on  As- 
says of  bias},  or  T.  of  S.  p.  167  (on  Against  the  bias}. 

III.   Thy  -voice,  etc.     Malone  compares  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  83  : 

"  his  voice  was  propertied 
As  all  the  tuned  spheres,  and  that  to  friends ; 
But  when  he  meant  to  quail  and  shake  the  orb, 
He  was  as  rattling  thunder." 

115.    You  find  not  the  apostrophas.     K.  understands  this  to  refer  to  the 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III. 


147 


apostrophes  in  f^wVand  bow'd  (102  and  104  above),  and  therefore  prints 
these  "  vowed  "  and  "  bowed." 

116-122.  Here  are  only,  etc.  The  early  eds.  give  this  to  Nathaniel; 
corrected  by  Theo. 

120.  Imilari.     To  imitate.     The  early  eds.  have  "imitarie,"  with  no 
point  before  it,  and  the  Coll.  MS.  reads  "  imitating." 

121.  The  tired  horse.     The  early  eds.  have  "tyred"  for  tired.     Theo. 
reads  "  try'd,"  and  Capell  "  'tired."     Heath  conjectures  "  trained."     It  is 
probably  another  allusion  to  Bankes's  horse  (see  on  i.  2.  52  above),  as 
Farmer  explains  it ;  tired  being  ="  adorned  with  ribbons." 

123.  Ay,  sir,  from  one  Monsieur  Biron.  "  S.  forgot  himself  in  this  pas- 
sage. Jaquenetta  knew  nothing  of  Biron,  and  had  said  just  before  that 
the  letter  had  been  sent  to  her  from  Don  Armado  and  given  to  her  by 
Costard  "  (Mason). 

133.  Royal.     The  word  is  only  in  the  1st  quarto. 

134.  Stay  not  thy  compliment ;  I  forgive  thy  duty.     That  is,  do   not 
tarry  to  make  any  formal  obeisance  ;  I  excuse  you  from  that.    Cf.  M.  N.  D. 
iv.  I.  21  :   "Pray  you,  leave  your  courtesy,  good  mounsieur."     Cf.  p.  155, 
note  on  87. 

141.  Colourable  colours.  "That  is,  specious  or  fair-seeming  appear- 
ances" (Johnson)  ;  or  "false  pretexts"  (Schmidt). 

146.   Before  repast.     As  in  1st  quarto;   "beins;  repast"  in  folios, 
has  "  bien  vonuto,"  and  the  Camb.  editors  conjecture  "  bien  venu  too." 

154.  Certes.  Certainly.  Cf.  Temp.  iii.  3.  30,  C.  of  E.  iv.  4.  78,  etc. 
Schmidt  considers  it  monosyllabic  in  Hen.  VIJI,  i.  i.  48  and  Ot/i.  i.  1. 16. 

156.  Paucaverba.     Few  words  (Latin). 

SCENE  III. — 2.  Pitched  a  toil.  Set  a  net.  Toiling  in  a  pitch  alludes 
to  Rosaline's  complexion  (Johnson). 

3.  Set  thee  down,  sorrmu  !   A  proverbial  expression.    Cf.  i.  I.  296  above. 

5.  And  ay  the  fool.   The  folio  has  "  I  "  for  ay,  as  regularly,  and  the  edi- 
tors generally  take  it  for  the  personal  pronoun.    The  ay  is  the  correction 
of  W.,  and  ay  the  fool— "  confirm  the  fool  in  what  he  said,"  or  say  ay  to 
him.     In  the  next  line  the  common  reading  is  "  I  a  sheep ;"  also  cor- 
rected by  \V. 

6.  //  kills  sheep.     Alluding  to  the  story  that  Ajax,  when  the  arms  of 
Hector  were  adjudged  to  Ulysses  instead  of  himself,  slew  a  whole  flock 
of  sheep,  which,  in  his  insane  fury,  he  mistook  for  the  sons  of  Atreus. 

10.  Lie  in  my  throat.  A  common  expression.  See  2  Hen.  IV.  p.  154. 
note  on  /  had  lied  in  my  throat. 

16.  If  the  other  three  were  in.     That  is,  in  the  same  predicament  with 
himself. 

17.  Gets  up  into  a  tree.    The  old  stage-direction  is  "He  stands  aside ;" 
which  was  all  that  the  humble  scenic  arrangements  of  that  day  could  af- 
ford ;  but  it  is  evident  from  74  below  that  Biron  is  meant  to  be  above  the 
others. 

20.  Bird-bolt.  A  blunt-headed  arrow,  used  to  kill  birds  without  pierc- 
ing them.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  i.  42  and  T.  A",  i.  5.  too. 


148  NOTES. 

25.  The  night  of  dew.  The  dewy  night,  the  tears  of  sorrow.  The  lady's 
lye-beams  are  ihe  morning  sunshine  on  these  dew-drops  of  his  grief.  Cf. 
V.  ami  A.  481  fol. 

28.  As  doth  thy  face,  etc.     Malone  compares  V.  and  A.&f)l  : 

"  But  hers,  which  through  the  crystal  tears  gave  light, 
Shone  like  the  moon  in  water  seen  by  night." 

31.  Triumphing.  Accented  on  the  second  syllable  ;  as  in  R.  of  Z, 
1388,  I  Hen.  IV.  v.  3.  15,  v.  4.  14,  Rich.  III.  iii.  4.  91,  iv.  4.  59,  etc. 

36.  Dost  tlwu.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  thou  dost." 

43.  Perjure.  Perjurer.  "The  punishment  of  perjury  is  to  wear  on 
the  breast  a  paper  expressing  the  crime  "  (Johnson).  Steevens  quotes 
several  references  to  the  penalty. 

48.  Triumviry.     The  early  eds.  have  "  triumphery  "  or  "  triumphry." 
Rowe  (ist  ed.)  reads  "triumvirate." 

49.  Love's  Tyburn.    "The  gallows  at  Tyburn  was  of  triangular  form" 
(Clarke). 

53.  Guards.    Facings,  trimmings.    Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  i.  289:  "  the  guards 
are  but  slightly  basted  on ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  124.    For  /5w^= breeches, 
see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  158. 

54.  Slop.     The  old  eds.  have  "shop;"  corrected  by  Theo.     S/oflsv/eie 
large  loose  trowsers.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  143. 

55.  Did  not  the  heavenly  rhetoric,  etc.     This  sonnet  also  appears  in 
P.  P.  iii.     A  comparison  of  the  two  versions  will  show  some  slight  ver- 
bal differences. 

68.  To  lose  an  oath.     By  losing  an  oath.     For  the  "  indefinite  use  "  of 
the  infinitive,  see  Gr.  356. 

69.  The  liver-vein.     For  the  liver  as  the  seat  of  love,  see  A.  Y.  L. 
p.  179. 

73.  All  hid,  all  hid.  "The  children's  cry  at  hide  and  seek"  (Mus- 
grave). 

76.  More  sacks  to  the  mill !    The  name  of  a  boyish  sport. 

77.  Woodcocks.     The  bird  was  supposed  to  have  no  brains,  and  hence 
was  a  common  metaphor  for  a  fool.     See  Ham.  pp.  191,  275. 

81.  She  is  not,  corporal.     Theo.  reads  "  is  but  corporal,"  and  the  Coll. 
MS.  "is  most  corporal;"  but  there  is  no  absolute  necessity  for  any 
change.    As  Clarke  remarks,  Biron  styles  Dumain  corporal  as  he  has  be- 
fore called  himself  "a  corporalol\i\s  (Love's)  field,"  with  perhaps  an  al- 
lusion to  the  word  mortal  just  used  by  Dumain.     K.,  V.,  St.,  the  Camb. 
editors,  W.  and  others  retain  the  old  text. 

82.  Quoted.     Noted,  marked.     Cf.  K.  John,  iv.  2.  222  : 

"A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  mark'd, 
Quoted  and  sign'd  to  do  a  deed  of  shame,"  etc. 

See  also  v.  2.  776  below.  In  the  early  eds.  the  word  is  spelt  "  coted,"  as  it 
was  pronounced. 

The  meaning  is  that  "  amber  itself  is  regarded  as  foul  when  compared 
with  her  hair"  (Mason). 

91.  Reigns  in  my  blood.  For  the  figure,  cf.  Ham.  iv.  3.  68:  "  For  like 
the  hectic  in  my  blood  he  rages." 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  III. 


149 


92.  Incision.     Blood-letting  ;  the  only  sense  in  S     Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii.  I. 
6,  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  75,  Rich.  II.  \.  I.  155,  Hen.  V.  iv.  2.  9.  etc. 

93.  Misprision.     Mistake,  misapprehension.     See  M.  Ar.  D.  p.  162. 
96.  O«  «  day,  etc.     This  poem  is  in  P.  P.  xvii.,  and  also  in  England's 

Helicon,  1614. 

101.  Can  passage  find '.     In  the  P.P.  we  find  "gan"  for  can.     The  lat- 
ter is  an  old  spelling  of  gan.     Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  i.  4.  46:  "  With  gentle 
words  he  can  her  fayrely  greet,"  etc.     See  also  \Vb. 

102.  That.     So  that ;  as  in  v.  2.  9  below.     Gr.  283. 

103.  Wished.     The  reading  in  P.  P.  and  the  2d  folio  ;  the  quartos  and 
1st  folio  have  "  wish." 

106.  Is  sworn.     "  Hath  sworn  "  in  P.  P.  and  England's  Helicon. 

107.  Thorn.    "  Throne  "  in  the  early  eds.  and  P.  P.;  corrected  by  Rowe 
from  England's  Helicon. 

1 12.  Thou  for  whom,  etc.  The  reading  of  all  the  early  versions.  Rowe 
reads  "even  Jove,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  "great  Jove." 

117.  Fasting.  Hungry,  longing;  changed  by  Capell  to  "lasting." 
Theo.  conjectured  "festering." 

126.  You  blush.  Changed  by  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "blush  you."  H.  adopts 
Walker's  conjecture  of  "your  blush." 

130.  Wreathed.  Folded.  Cf.  T.  G.of  F.  ii.  i.  19:  "to  wreathe  youi 
arms,"  etc. 

137.  One,  her.  The  2d  folio  drops  One,  and  Walker  conjectures  "  One's.'1 

140.  When  that.     For  that  as  a  "  conjunctional  affix,"  see  Gr.  287. 

141.  Faith  so  infringed,  etc.     The  so  (the  reading  of  the  Globe  ed.) 
is  not  in   the  folio.     The  2d  folio  has  "A  faith."      D.  and  H.  adopt 
Walker's   conjecture   "Of  faith."      "Such   faith"  has  also  been   pro- 
posed.    In  the   1st  quarto  the  line  is  at  the  top  of  the  page,  and  the 
catch-word  at  the  bottom  of  the  preceding  page  is  "  Fayth,"  showing,  as 
the  Camb.  editors  remark,  that  the  omitted  word,  whatever  it  may  be, 
was  not  the  first  in  the  line. 

145.  Know  so  much  by  me.     That  is,  about  me.     Cf.  A.  W.  v.  3.  237  i 
"  By  him  and  by  this  woman  here  what  know  you  ?"    See  also  i  Cor.  iv.  4  ; 
"  I  know  nothing  by  myself"  (that  is,  against  myself).     Gr.  145. 

146.  Advancing.     W.  has  "Descends"  and  remarks:    "The    original 
has  no  stage-direction  here.     It  is  noteworthy  that  Biron  does  not  say 
'  Now  I  descend?  but  '  Now  step  I  forth?  which  betrays  the  poet's  con- 
sciousness that,  although  he  imagined  the  character  to  be  in  a  tree,  the 
actor  who  played  it  would  be  on  the  same  plane  with  the  others."     We 
are  inclined,  however,  to  think  that  "Advancing"  is  the  proper  stage- 
direction,  and  that  step  I  forth  refers  to  his  coming  forward  after  descend- 
ing from  the  tree.     What  the  stage  usage  is  we  are  unable  to  say. 

150.  Coaches;  in,  etc.  The  early  eds.  have  "couches  in,"  etc. ;  cor- 
rected by  Hanmer.  Cf.  30  above. 

153.  Like  of.     See  on  i.  I.  107  above. 

156.  Mote  .  .  .  mote.  The  early  eds.  have  "moth  .  .  .  moth."  Cf.  p.  128 
above. 

159.  Teen.  Grief,  pain.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  64:  "To  think  o'  the  teen  that 
I  have  turn'd  you  to ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  113. 


!5o  NOTES. 

161.  Gnat.     Schmidt  compares  Per.  ii.  3.  62 :  "  And  princes  not  doing 
so  are  like  to  gnats."     Theo.  reads  "  knot,"  and  Johnson  conjectures 
"sot."     Mason  says  :  "  Biron  is  abusing  the  king  for  his  sonneting  like 
a  minstrel,  and  compares  him  to  a  gnat,  which  alsvays  sings  as  it  flies." 
From  the  context  it  is  quite  as  likely  that  gnat  is  simply  a  hit  at  the  king 
for  "coming  down  "  to  such  petty  business  as  love-making. 

162.  Gig.    A  kind  of  top.     Cf.  v.  i.  60,  62  below.     S.  uses  the  word 
nowhere  else. 

163.  Profound.     Accented  on  the  first  syllable  because  coming  before 
a  noun  accented  on  the  first  syllable.     Cf.  Ham.  iv.  i.  I  :  "  There  's  mat- 
ter in  these  sighs,  these  profound  heaves."     See,  on  the  other  hand,  v.  2. 
52  below,  or  Satin.  112.  9.     See  also  on  i.  I.  134  above. 

164.  Push-pin.     A  child's  game. 

165.  Critic  Timon.     Cynical  Timon.     See  on  iii..  i.  173  above.    S.  uses 
the  adjective  only  here,  but  we  have  critical— censorious,  in  M.JV.  D.  v. 
I.  54  and  Oth.  ii.  i.  120  (the  only  instances  of  the  word). 

169.  A  caudle,  ho!  A  caudle  was  a  warm,  cordial  drink,  often  used  for 
the  sick.  The  folios  misprint  "  candle  "  (the  1st  quarto  has  caudle),  as  in 
2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  95,  the  only  other  instance  of  the  noun  in  S. 

171.  To  me  .  .  .  by  you.  The  early  eds.  have  "by  me  ...  to  you;" 
corrected  by  Capell. 

175.  Men  like  you,  etc.  The  quartos  and  1st  folio  have  "men  like  men 
of  inconstancy  ;"  corrected  by  D.  (Walker's  conjecture).  Various  other 
emendations  not  worthy  of  note  have  been  suggested. 

177.  Love.     The  reading  of  1st  quarto  (Duke  of  Devonshire's  copy) ; 
other  copies  having  "  lone."     The  other  early  eds.  have  "  loane  "  or 
"Joan;"  and  some  modern  eds.  read  "Joan."     See  on  iii.  i.  202  above. 

178.  Pruning  me.     Adorning  myself.      See  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  142. 

180.  State.  Mode  of  standing,  as  opposed  to  gait ;  attitude.  Cf.  sta- 
tion in  Ham.  iii.  4.  58  and  A.  and  C.  iii.  3.  22. 

182.  Trite  man.  Often  opposed  to  thief.  See  i  Hen.  IV.  p.  168,  or 
Cymb.  p.  182. 

184.  Present.     Document  to  be  presented.     Some  see  an  allusion  to 
the  legal  formula  "  Be  it  known  to  all  men  by  these  presents ;"  but  this 
seems  unnecessary.     Sr.  reads  "presentment,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has 
"  peasant." 

185.  Makes.     Does.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  I.  31  :   "what  make  you  here?'' 
This  use  of  the  word  was  very  common,  and  is  played  upon,  as  here,  in 
Rich.  III.  i.  3.  164  fol. 

189.  Person.  Parson  ;  the  reading  of  the  early  eds.  See  on  iv.  2.  78 
above. 

196.  Toy.  Trifle  ;  as  in  165  above.  Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  iv.  i.  145  :  "a  toy, 
a  thing  of  no  regard,"  etc. 

202.  Mess.  Sometimes  =a  party  of  four,  as  "at  great  dinners  the 
company  was  usually  arranged  into  fours  "  (Nares).  Cf.  v.  2.  363  below, 
and  see  also  3  Hen.  VI.  \.  4.  73  :  "  your  mess  of  sons." 

207.  Turtles.  Turtle-doves  ;  the  only  sense  in  S.  Cf.  v.  2.  893  below, 
See  also  IV.  T.  p.  194. 

211.  Show.     The  folios  have  "will  shew." 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  III.  I5! 

214.  Of  all  hands.  "At  any  rate,  in  any  case  "  (Schmidt).  Clarke 
makes  it  ="  on  all  sides,  on  every  account." 

218.  Gorgeous  east.   Milton  has  adopted  this  in  P.  L.  ii.  3  :  "Or  where 
the  gorgeous  east  with  richest  hand,"  etc. 

219.  Strucken.     The  early  eels,  have  "strooken."     Cf.  Gr.  344. 

235.  To  things  of  sale,  etc.  Malone  quotes  Sonn.  21.  14:  "I  will  not 
praise  that  purpose  not  to  sell." 

243.  Wood.   The  early  eds.  have  "  word;"  corrected  by  Rowe  (ist  ed.). 
248.  Aroface,  etc.     Cf.  Sonn.  132.  13  : 

"Then  will  I  swear  beauty  herself  is  blnck, 
And  all  they  foul  that  thy  complexion  lack." 

See  also  Sonn.  127. 

250.  Shade.     The   early  eds.  have  "schoole"  or  "school.''     Warb. 
conjectures  "scowl,"'  Theo.  "stole,"  Thirlby  "soul,"  D.  "soil,"  Halli- 
well  "  scroll,"  "  shroud,"  or  "  seal,"  and  the  Camb.  editors  "suit."   Shade 
is  from  the  Coll.  MS.  and  is  adopted  by  W.  and  H. 

251.  And  beauty's  crest,  etc.    "  Crest  is  here  properly  opposed  to  badge. 
Black,  says  the  king,  is  the  badge  of  hell,  but  that  which  graces  the  heaven 
is  the  crest  of  beauty.   Black  darkens  hell,  and  is  therefore  hateful ;  white 
adorns  heaven,  and  is  therefore  lovely"  (Johnson).     Toilet  says:   "In 
heraldry,  a  crest  is  a  device  placed  above  a  coat  of  arms.     S.  therefore 
uses  it  in  a  sense  equivalent  to  top  or  utmost  height."     Cf.  K.  John,  iv.  3. 
46.     For  crest,  Hanmer  reads  "  dress,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  "  best." 

254.  Usurping  hair.  On  Shakespeare's  repugnance  to  false  hair,  see 
M.  of  V.  p.  149,  note  on  The  dinury,  etc.  For  his  allusions  to  painting, 
cf.  M.for  M.  iii.  2.  83,  iv.  2.  40,  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  147,  Ham.  v.  i.  213,  \V.  T. 
iv.  4.  101,  etc.  Hanmer  has  "  usurped."  The  ist  folio  omits  and,  and 
the  2d  and  3d  folios  have  "  an." 

263.  Crack.     Boast.     Cf.  Cymb.  v.  5.  177: 

"our  brags 
Were  crack'd  of  kitchen-trulls." 

The  ist  quarto  and  ist  and  2d  folios  have  "  crake." 

283.  Quillets.  Casuistries,  subtleties,  nice  distinctions  of  logic  or  law. 
Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  ii.  4.  17  :  "  these  nice  sharp  quillets  of  the  law  ;"  Ham.  v. 
I.  108:  "his  quidclits  now,  his  quillets,"  etc. 

292.  Book.     Some  editors  put  a  colon  or  semicolon  after  this  word. 

294-299.  For  when  .  .  .fire.  These  lines  are  evidently  a  part  of  the 
first  sketch  of  the  play  accidentally  retained  in  the  revision.  They  are 
repeated  in  new  form  below.  The  same  is  true  of  307-314  below.  D. 
and  H.  strike  out  both  passages. 

300.  Poisons  up.  For  the  intensive  use  of  up,  cf.  "kill  them  up"  in 
A.  Y.  L.  ii.  I.  62,  and  see  our  ed.  p.  155.  See  also  flatter  up  in  v.  2.  804 
below.  Most  editors  (except  St.)  follow  Theo.  in  reading  "prisons  up  ;" 
but  the  simile  which  follows  seems  to  favour  the  old  text.  There  is  a 
closer  analogy  between  poisoning  and  tiring  than  between  prisoning  and 
tiring.  The^'early  eds.  all  have  "  poysons."  The  Camb.  editors,  after 
adopting  "prisons,"  return  to  poisons  in  the  Globe  ed. 

308.    Teaches  such  beauty,  etc.     "  That  is,  a  lady's  eyes  give  a  fuller  no- 


152 


NOTES. 


tion  of  beauty  than  any  author  "  (Johnson).  Warb.  reads  "  duty,"  and  the 
Coll.  MS.  "learning." 

311.  Then  whe>i,z\.c.  After  this  line,  the  quartos  and  1st  folio  insert 
the  imperfect  line  "  With  our  selues." 

314.  Our  books.  "That  is,  our  true  books,  from  which  we  derive  most 
information — the  eyes  of  women  "  (Malone). 

317.  Numbers.  "  Poetical  measures  "  (Johnson) ;  changed  by  Hanmer 
to  "  notions." 

331.  When  the  suspicious  head  of  theft  is  stopped.     "  That  is,  a  lover  in 
pursuit  of  his  mistress  has  his  sense  of  hearing  quicker  than  a  thief  (who 
suspects  every  sound  he  hears)  in  pursuit  of  his  prey  "(Warb.). 

332.  Sensible.    Sensitive;  as  in  Temp.\\.  I.  174:  "sensible  and  nimble 
lungs,"  etc. 

336.  Valour.  Theo.  reads  "savour,"  and  "flavour  "has  been  conject- 
ured. The  reference  is  of  course  to  the  daring  of  Hercules  in  attempt- 
ing to  get  the  golden  apples.  Hesperides  is  used  for  the  Gardens  of  the 
Hesperides.  Cf.  Per.  i.  I.  27  : 

"Before  thee  stands  this  fair  Hesperides, 
With  golden  fruit,  but  dangerous  to  be  touch'd ; 
For  death-like  dragons  here  affright  thee  hard." 

Malone  quotes  Greene's  Friar  Bacon,  etc.,  1598  :  "  That  watch'd  the  gar- 
den call'd  Hesperides." 

339.  Voice.  H.  prints  "  voice'."  Possibly  the  word  is  a  plural,  like 
sense  in  Sonn.  112. 10,  etc.  See  Gr.  471.  The  plural  verb  may,  however, 
be  explained  as  an  instance  of"  confusion  of  proximity  "  Gr.  412).  Ab- 
bott is  doubtful  under  which  head  to  put  the  passage.  Hanmer  reads 
"  Makes  "  for  Make. 

The  meaning  of  the  passage  may  be,  "  When  love  speaks,  the  accord- 
ant voice  of  all  the  gods  makes  heaven  drowsy  with  the  harmony" 
(Clarke)  ;  or,  as  we  are  inclined  to  think,  when  love  speaks,  it  is  like  the 
voices  of  all  the  gods  blended  in  soul -soothing  harmony. 

353.  A  -word  that  loves  all  men.  Malone  thinks  this  means  "that  is 
pleasing  to  all  men,"  and  compares  the  impersonal  use  of ''it  likes  me" 
=  it  pleases  me.  Of  course  there  is  no  analogy  whatever  between  the 
two.  The  expression  was  used  for  the  sake  of  the  antithesis,  and  proba- 
bly with  a  somewhat  loose  reference  to  the  idea  that  love  affects  all  men, 
or,  possibly,  is  a  blessing  to  all  men.  Hanmer  reads  "that  moves  all 
men,"  and  Warb.  "  all  women  love."  Heath  conjectures  "joys  "  for  loves, 
and  Mason  "leads." 

364.  Get  the  sun  of  them.     As  Malone  notes,  it  was  an  advantage  in 
the  days  of  archery  to  have  the  sun  at  the  back  of  the  bowmen  and  in 
the  face  of  the  enemy  ;  as  Henry  V.  found  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt. 

365.  Glozes.     Sophistries,  special  pleadings  ;  the  only  instance  of  the 
nouu  in  S.     For  the  verb,  see  Hen.  V.  p.  146. 

375.    Love.     Venus.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  p.  128. 

377.  Be  time.  That  is,  be  sufficient  time  (Clarke).  The  reading  of 
the  early  eds.  changed  by  Rowe  to  "  betime,"  which  Schmidt  regards  as 
a  verb  ="  betide,  chance." 


ACT  V.    SCENE  /.  IS3 

378.  Allans!  aliens!  The  early  eds.  have  "Alone,  alone;"  corrected 
by  Tneo.  (the  conjecture  of  Warb.).  See  on  v.  I.  137  beluw. 

Stnu'd  cockle  reap'd  no  corn.  "  This  proverbial  expression  intimates 
that,  beginning  with  perjury,  they  can  expect  to  reap  nothing  but  false- 
hood "  (Warb.). 


ACT  V. 

SCENE  I. — I.  Satis  quod  sujftdt.  "  Enough  's  as  good  as  a  feast " 
(Steevens). 

2.  Reasons.  Arguments  ;  or,  perhaps,  as  Johnson  and  others  explain 
it,  "discourse,  conversation." 

4.  Affection.     "  Affectation  "  (ad  folio).     In  Ham.  ii.  2.  464,  the  quartos 
have  "  affection,"  the  folios  "  affectation."     See  also  on  v.  2.409  below. 
Affectioned  (—affected)  occurs  in  T.  N.  ii.  3.  160. 

5.  Opinion.     Dogmatism ;    or,  perhaps,  self-conceit.     Cf.  I   Hen.  IV. 
p.  175. 

9.  Ncrji  hominem  tctnqitam  te.     I  know  the  man  as  well  as  I  do  you.    • 

10.  His  tongue  filed.     His  speech  is  polished  or  refined.     Cf.  Sonn. 
85.  4:  "  And  precious  phrase  by  all  the  Muses  fil'd,"  etc. 

12.  Thrasonical.  Boastful;  like  Thraso  in  Terence's  Eiinuchns.  Cf. 
A.  Y.  L.  p.  193. 

Picked.  Over- refined,  fastidious.  Cf.  Hum.  v.  i.  151:  "the  age  is 
grown  so  picked ;"  and  K.  John,  i.  I.  193  :  "  My  picked  man  of  coun- 
tries." Travellers  were  much  given  to  this  affectation;  which  explains 
peregrinate  here. 

18.  Phantasimes.     Fantastics.     See  on  iv.  1.94  above. 
Point-device =fm\<za\i  "up  to  the  best  mark  devisable;"  as  in  A.  Y.  L. 

iii.  2.  401  :  "you  are  rather  point-device  in  your  accoutrements."  For 
companions  used  contemptuously  (—  fellows),  see  Temp.  p.  131,  note  on 
Your  fellow. 

19.  Rackers  of  orthography,  etc.      W.  remarks  :  "This  passage  has  es- 
pecial interest  on  account  of  its   testimony  to  the  condition  of  our  lan- 
guage when  it  was  written.     In  his  pedag'oguish  wrath,  the  Pedant  lets 
us  know  that  consonants  now  silent  were  then  heard  on  the  lips  of  pur- 
ists, that  compound  words  preserved  ihe  forms  and  sounds  of  their  ele- 
ments, and  that  vowels  were  pronounced  more  purely  and  openly  than 
they  now  are.     The  change  from  the  ancient  to  what  may  be  called  the 
modern  pronunciation   appears    to   have  begun,  among  the  more  culti- 
vated classes,  just  before  S.  commenced  his  career,  and  to  have  been 
completed  in  the  course  of  about  fifty  years — that  is,  from  about  1575  to 
about   1625  .  .  .  With  regard  to  the  completion  of  this  change,  the  fol- 
lowing passages  from  Charles  Butler's  English  Grammar,  Oxford,  1633, 
are  decisive:   'Another  use  of  the  letters  is  to  show  the  derivation  of  a 
word :    namely,  when  sve  keep  a  letter  in   the  derivative,  &c.  .  .  .  also 
when  a  letter  not  sounded  in  the  English  is  yet  written,  because  it  is  in 
the  language  from  which  the  word  came  :  as  b  in  debt,  doubt ;  e  in  George ; 
§  in  de seign,  fltgme,  reign,  signe  ;  h  in   Thomas,  authoriti ;  I  in  salve,  &c. 


154 


NOTES. 


. .  .  L  after  a  and  before/,  v,  k,  or  m  is  vulgarly  sounded  like  «  (or,  with 
the  a,  like  the  diphthong  au)  ;  before  /as  in  calf,  half;  before  v  as  in 
mlv,  calvs,  halvs,  etc.'  " 

23.  Abhominable.     The  old  spelling,  and  evidently  also  the  pronuncia- 
tion, of  the  word. 

Insinnatetli  me.  Intimates  or  suggests  to  me.  Hanmer  reads  "  to 
me,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  "  one  "  for  me. 

24.  For  insanire  the  early  eds.  have  "  infamie,"  for  which  Theo.  reads 
"insanie,"  Warb.  "insanity,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  "insania."     Insanire, 
which  is  favoured  by  the  use  of  the  infinitive  in  defining  it,  was  suggested 
by  Walker. 

Ne  inlslligis  ?  Do  you  understand  ?  Johnson  conjectures  "  nonne  " 
for  ne. 

26.  Laus  Deo,  etc.     The  folio  reads  here  : 
"  Cura.     Laus  Deo,  bene  intelligo. 
Peda.     Borne  boon  for  boon  prescian,  a  little  scratcht,  'twil  serue." 

The  reading  in  the  text  is  due  to  Theo.,  who  says:  "The  curate,  ad- 
dressing with  complaisance  his  brother  pedant,  says  bone  to  him,  as  we 
frequently  in  Terence  find  bone  vir  ;  but  the  pedant,  thinking  he  had  mis- 
taken the  adverb,  thus  descants  on  it :  '  Bone — bone  for  bene :  Priscian  a 
little  scratched:  'twill  serve.'  Alluding  to  the  common  phrase,  Dimin- 
uis  Prisciani  capnt,  applied  to  such  as  speak  false  Latin."  This  is  ingen- 
ious, but  we  have  our  doubts  whether  it  is  anything  more  than  a  plausi- 
ble mending  of  a  hopelessly  corrupt  passage.  It  is,  however,  much  to  be 
preferred  to  the  modification  of  it  in  the  modern  editions  that  have  adopt- 
ed it.  These,  without  exception  (at  least,  so.  far  as  we  are  aware),  read 
"bone  intelligo,"  making  Nathaniel  actually  wrong  in  the  use  of  the  ad- 
verb. It  is  hardly  conceivable  that  he  should  be  guilty  of  a  blunder  for 
which  a  schoolboy  ought  to  be  whipped  ;  and  besides  he  has  used  the  cor- 
rect form  in  "omne  bene,"  in  iv.  2.  31  above — a  fact  which  all  the  editors 
appear  to  have  overlooked.  It  is  certainly  more  reasonable  to  suppose, 
as  Theo.  does,  that  Nathaniel's  bone  is  the  vocative  of  the  adjective,  and 
that  Holofernes  takes  it  to  be  a  slip  for  the  adverb  ;  which  is  natural 
enough,  as  bene  intelligo  is  a  common  phrase.  Being  a  pedagogue,  and 
used  to  hearing  such  blunders  from  his  pupils,  it  does  not  occur  to  him 
that  Nathaniel  would  not  be  likely  to  make  them. 

The  Camb.  editors  (followed  by  H.)  retain  the  bene  intelligo,  and  make 
Holofernes  reply  :  "  Bon,  bon,  fort  bon,  Priscian  !  a  little  scratched ;  '  t  will 
serve."  They  say :  "  Holofernes  patronizingly  calls  Sir  Nathaniel  Pris- 
cian, but,  pedagogue-like,  will  not  admit  his  perfect  accuracy."  It  seems 
improbable,  however,  that  he  would  play  the  critic  in  a  case  like  this, 
where  the  construction  is  so  simple  that  no  possible  question  could  be 
raised  about  it.  Besides,  the  pedant  does  not  elsewhere  quote  French, 
and  Latin  might  naturally  be  expected  from  him  here. 

29.  Videsne  quis  •venit?     Do  you  see  who  is  coming? 

30.  Video,  et  giiudeo.     I  see,  and  rejoice. 

37.  Alms-basket  of  words.  The  refuse  of  words.  As  Malone  notes, 
the  refuse  meat  of  families  was  put  into  a  basket  and  given  to  the  poor. 
He  cites  Florio's  Second  Frutes,  1591  •  "Take  away  the  table,  fould  up 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I. 


155 


the  cloth,  and  put  all  these  pieces  of  broken  meat  into  a  basket  for  the 
poor." 

39.  Honorificabililiidinitatibus.    "  This  word,  vvhencesoever  it  comes,  is 
often  mentioned  as  the  longest  word  known"  (Johnson). 

40.  Fiap- dragon.     "Some  small  combustible  body,  rued  at  one  end, 
and  put  afloat  in  a  glass  of  liquor  "  (Johnson).     Cf.  2  Hen.  /F.  ii.  4.  267  : 
"drinks  off  candle-ends  for  flap-dragons."     Almonds,  plums,  or  raisins 
were  commonly  used  for  the  purpose. 

43.  Horn-book.  The  child's  primer,  the  pages  of  which  were  covered 
with  thin  horn,  to  keep  them  frqm  being  soiled  or  torn.  S.  uses  the 
word  only  here. 

45.  Pueritia.     Literally,  boyhood ;  used  affectedly  for puer,  boy. 

48.  Quis.     Who. 

50.  The  fifth,  if  I.  K.  says  :  "  The  pedant  asks  who  is  the  silly  sheep 
— quis,  quis?  'The  third  of  the  five  vowels  if  you  repeat  them,'  says 
Moth  ;  and  the  pedant  does  repeat  them — a,  e,  I ;  the  other  two  clinches 
it,  says  Moth,  o,  u  (O  you).  This  may  appear  a  poor  conundrum,  and  a 
low  conceit,  as  Theobald  has  it,  but  the  satire  is  in  opposing  the  ped- 
antry of  the  boy  to  the  pedantry  of  the  man,  and  making  the  pedant  have 
the  worst  of  it  in  what  he  calls  'a  quick  venew  of  wit.'  " 

53.  Longaville.     Here  rhyming  with  mile,  as  above  (iv.  3.  128)  with 
compile.     Cf.  p.  128  above. 

54.  Venue.     Touch,  hit ;  a  fencing  term.     It  is  the  same  as  veney  in 
M.  IV.  \.  i.  296.     See  our  eel.  p.  135. 

55.  Home.     That  is,  a  home  thrust.     Cf.  v.  2.  628  below. 

56.  Wit-old.     A  play  upon  wittol  (  —cuckold),  for  which  see  M.  W. 
p.  148. 

62.  Circitm  circa.     That  is,  round  and  round. 

71.  Preambulate.     The  early  eds.  have  "  preambulat,"  for  which  Theo. 
reads  "praeambula."     Preambulate  is  from  the  Camb.  ed. 

72.  Charge-house.     A  word  not  found  elsewhere,  and  possibly  a  corrup- 
tion.    Steevens  thought  it  might  be  ="  a  free  school  "  (apparently  on  the 
lucus  a  non  lucendo  principle),  but  it  is  more  likely  one  at  which  a  fee  was 
charged.     Theo.  conjectures  "church-house,"  and   the   Coll.  MS.  has 
"large  house."     C'apell  takes  it  to  be  a  corruption  of  Charter-house,  as 
that  word  is  of  Chartreuse.     This  is  not  improbable.      H.  reads  "Char- 
treuse ;"  but,  even  it' that  is  the  meaning,  the  corruption  may  have  been 
put  intentionally  into  the  mouth  of  Armado. 

83.  Choice.  The  quartos  and  1st  folio  have  "chose,"  the  2d  folio 
"  choise,"  and  the  other  folios  "  choice." 

86.  Inward.     Confidential,  private.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  4-  8  :   "  Who  is 
most  inward  with  the  royal  duke?"     See  also  the  noun  in  ftl.for  M.  iii. 
2.  138. 

87.  Remember  thy  courtesy.     This  was  a  phrase  of  the  time,  bidding  a 
person  who  had  taken  off  his  hat  as  an  act  of  courtesy,  to  put  it  on  again. 
See  p.  147.     Dr.  Ingleby  (Shakes,  tfermeneutics,  p.  74)  is  probably  right 
in  his  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  phrase  :    "  It  arose,  we  think,  as 
follows:    the  courtesy  was  the  temporary  removal  of  the  hat  from  the 
head,  and  that  was  finished  as  soon  as  the  hat  was  replaced.     If  any  one 


I56  NOTES. 

from  ill-breeding  or  over-politeness  stood  uncovered  for  a  longer  time 
than  was  necessary  to  perform  the  simple  act  of  courtesy,  the  person  so 
saluted  reminded  him  of  the  fact  that  the  removal  of  the  hat  was  a  courte- 
sy :  and  this  was  expressed  by  the  euphemism  '  Remember  thy  courtesy,' 
which  thus  implied  'Complete  your  courtesy,  and  replace  your  hat.'" 

89.  Importunate.  The  folio  reading.  The  ist  quarto  has  "  impor- 
tune," and  the  Camb.  ed.  "  important." 

93.  Excrement.  The  word  is  applied  to  the  hair  or  beard  in  five  out 
of  six  passages  in  which  S.  uses  it.  See  Ham.  p.  238. 

99.  Chuck.     A  term  of  endearment.     See  Macb.  p.  212. 

100.  Antique.     The  early  eds.  use  antique  and  antick  indiscriminately, 
but  with  the  accent  always  on  the  first  syllable.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  p.  152,  or 
Macb.  p.  234.     See  also  132  below. 

105.  The  Nine  Worthies.     Famous  personages,  often  alluded  to,  and 
classed  somewhat  arbitrarily,  like  the   Seven  Wonders  of  the  World. 
They  were  commonly  said  to  be  three  Gentiles — Hector,  Alexander, 
Julius   Caesar;    three   Jews  —  Joshua,   David,  Judas  Maccabaeus  ;    and 
three  Christians  —  Arthur,  Charlemagne,  Godfrey  of  Bouillon.     In  the 
present  play  we  find   Pompey  and  Hercules  among  the  number.     Cf. 
2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  238:   "  ten  times  better  than  the  Nine  Worthies. 

106.  Sir  Nathaniel.     The  early  eds.  have  "  Sir  Holofernes ;"  correct- 
ed by  Capell. 

1 13.  Myself  or.  The  early  eds.  have  "  myself  and ;"  corrected  by  Cap- 
ell.  The  passage  is  probably  otherwise  corrupt 

115.  Pass.     Pass  as,  represent. 

120.  Present.  Represent ;  as  in  Temp.  iv.  I.  167  :  "  When  I  presented 
Ceres,"  etc.  See  also  many  instances  of  the  word  below. 

125.  Make  an  offence  gracious.  "  Convert  an  offence  against  yourselves 
into  a  dramatic  propriety"  (Steevens). 

132.  FaJge.  Suit,  or  turn  out  well;  as  in  T.  N.  ii.  2.  34:  "How  will 
this  fadge?" 

134.  Via.  Away  (Italian);  used  as  "an  adverb  of  encouragement" 
(Florio). 

137.  Allans.     The  early  eds.  have  "Alone,"  as  in  iv.  3.  378  above. 

139.  The  hay.  Some  say  that  to  dance  the  hay  was  to  dance  in  a  ring ; 
others  that  hay  was  the  name  of  a  country-dance. 

SCENE  II. — 2.  Fairings.  Presents  (originally,  those  bought  at  a  fair) ; 
used  by  S.  only  here. 

3.  A  lady,  etc.  Walker  conjectures  that  this  line  and  the  next  should 
be  transposed  ;  but  it  is  not  an  unnatural  exclamation  as  it  stands. 

10.  Wax.     Grow  ;  with  an  obvious  play  on  the  noun. 

12.  Shreiud.  Mischievous,  evil;  the  original  sense  of  the  word.  See 
Hen.  VIII.  p.  202.  Unhappy  seems  to  be  ^roguish ;  as  in  A.  W.  iv. 
5.  66:  "A  shrewd  knave  and  an  unhappy."  See  our  ed.  p.  174.  Gal- 
lows—one who  deserves  the  gallows. 

19.  Mouse.  Cf.  Hani,  iii.  4.  183  :  "  call  you  his  mouse."  See  also  T.  N. 
i.  5.  69. 

22.   Taking  it  in  snuff.     A  play  on  the  sense  of  taking  it  ill,  or  being 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II. 


157 


vexed  at  it.     Cf.  Hotspur's  quibble  in   i  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  41.     See  also 
M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  254. 

28.  Past  cure  is  still  past  care.    The  early  eds.  transpose  cure  and  care  ; 
corrected  by  Theo.     For  the  proverb,  cf,  Sonn.  147.  9  :  "  Past  cure  I 
am,  now  reason  is  past  care."     See  also  R.  and  J.  p.  200,  note  on  Cure. 

29.  Bandied.     Like  set  (=game),  an  allusion  to  tennis.     Cf.  K.  John, 
v.  2.  107  and  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  262.     See  also  R.  and  J.  ii.  5.  114. 

33.  Favour.     Playing  upon  its  sense  of  face.     Cf.  iv.  3.  257  above. 

43.  Ware  pencils.  Beware  of  pencils.  Ware  is  not  a  contraction  of 
beware,  as  generally  printed.  Cf.  Wb. 

"  Rosaline  says  that  Biron  had  drawn  her  picture  in  his  letter  ;  and  af- 
terwards playing  on  the  word  letter,  Katherine  compares  her  to  a  text  B. 
Rosaline  in  reply  advises  her  to  beware  of  pencils,  that  is,  of  drawing 
likenesses,  lest  she  should  retaliate  ;  which  she  afterwards  does  by  com- 
paring her  to  a  red  dominical  letter,  and  calling  her  marks  of  the  small- 
pox O's"  (Mason).  In  the  old  calendars  (as  in  some  modern  ones)  the 
dominical  letter  denoting  Sunday  was  printed  in  red. 

45.  Not  so.     Found  in  the  ist  quarto,  but  not  in  the  other  early  eds. 

46.  A  pox  of  that  jest !    Theo.  considered  this  rather  coarse  in  the 
mouth  of  a  princess  ;  but,  as  Farmer  reminds  him,  only  the  small-pox  is 
meant.     Davison  has  a  canzonet  on  his  lady's  "sicknesse  of  the  poxe ;" 
and  Dr.  Donne  writes  to  his  sister :  "  I  found  Pegge  had  the  poxe — 1 
humbly  thank  God,  it  hath  not  much  disfigured  her." 

Beshrew  was  a  mild  form  of  imprecation  ;  and  s/innv  was  another  spell- 
ing of  shrew  (cf.  shew  and  shcnu,  etc.),  representing  the  pronunciation  of 
the  word.  For  the  rhyme,  cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  I.  213,  v.  2.  28,  188.  D.  omits 
/  (Lettsom's  conjecture),  as  "in  29  out  of  31  examples  in  S.  beshrew  is 
a  mere  exclamatory  imprecation."  The  other  instance  of  the  verb  with  a 
pronoun  expressed  is  in  R.  andj.  v.  2.  26  :  "  She  will  beshrew  me  much." 

47.  But,  Katherine,  etc.     It  has  been  conjectured  that  either  Katherine 
should  be  omitted,  or  we  should  read  "sent  you  from  Uumain." 

61.  ///  by  the  week.  A  cant  phrase  of  the  time,  sometimes  =in  love, 
as  in  the  old  Roister  Doister  (St.). 

65.  Hests.     The  quartos  and   ist  folio  have  "device,"  and  the  later 
folios  "all  to  my  behests."     Hests  (cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  274,  iii.  I.  37,  iv.  i.  65, 
and  see  our  ed.  p.  118)  was  suggested  by  Walker. 

66.  And  make  him  proud,  etc.     "Make  him  proud  to  flatter  me  who 
make  a  mock  of  his  flattery"  (Edin.  Rev.  Nov.  1786). 

67.  Potent-tike.     The  early  eds.  have  "perttaunt-like"  or  "  pertaunt- 
like."      Theo.   reads    "pedant-like,"   Hanmer   and    H.  "portent-like," 
Capell  "pageant-like,"  the  Coll.  MS.  "potently,"  and  W.  "  persaunt- 
like"  (=  piercingly).     Patent-like  is  due  to  Sr. 

69.  Catch 'd.  For  the  form,  ci.  A.  W.  i.  3.  176  and  R.  and  J.  iv.  5.  48. 
We  find  it  as  the  past  tense  in  Cor.  i.  3.  68. 

74.  Wantonness.  The  quartos  and  ist  folio  have  "wantons  be;"  cor- 
rected in  2d  folio. 

78.  Simplicity.     Silliness ;  as  in  52  above. 

79.  Mirth  is.     The  folios'  omit  is,  which  is  found  in  the  ist  quarto. 
In  the  next  line  the  quarto  misprints  "stable"  for  stabtfd. 


158  NOTES, 

80.  In  stabWd  with  daughter  some  see  an  allusion  to  the  "  stitch  in  the 
side  "  often  caused  by  laughter. 

82.  Encounters.  The  abstract  for  the  concrete.  The  Coll.  MS.  has 
"encounterers,"  which  occurs  in  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  58. 

87.  Saint  Denis.     The  patron  saint  of  France.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  193, 
220,  etc.     For  Saint  Cupid,  cf.  iv.  3.  361  above. 

88.  Charge  their  breath  against  us.     Make  this  wordy  attack  upon  us. 
The  Coll.  MS.  spoils  it  by  reading  "charge  the  breach." 

92.  Addrest.  Directed;  as  in  T.  N.  i.  4.  15  :  "  address  thy  gait  untc 
her,"  etc.  H.  explains  it  as  "  made  ready  or  prepared." 

lot.  Made  a  doubt.  Expressed  the  fear.  Cf.  Mich.  II.  p.  198,  note  on 
'T is  doubt. 

104.  Audaciously.     Boldly,  with  confidence. 

117.  Spleen  ridiculous.     "Ridiculous  fit  of  laughter"  (Johnson).     For 
spleen=n  sudden  impulse,  or  fit,  see  M.  N.  D.  p.  129. 

118.  Passion's  solemn  tears.     That  is,  tears  which  are  usually  the  ex- 
pression of  deep  sorrow.     For  passion,  cf.  Ham.  p.  212.     See  also  the 
verb  in  i.  I.  249  above.     The  1st  quarto  prints  "follie  pashions  solembe," 
and  the  folio  "folly  passions  solemne."      Pope  reads  "folly,  passions, 
solemn  tears,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "sudden"  for  solemn.     St.  conject- 
ures "  folly's  passion,  solemn  tears." 

121.  Like  Mitscovites  or  Russians.     K.  remarks  :  "  For  the  Russian  or 
Muscovite  habits  assumed  by  the  king  and  nobles  of  Navarre,  we  are 
indebted  to  Vecellio.     At  page  303  of  the   edition  of  1598,  we   find  a 
noble  Muscovite  whose   attire   sufficiently  corresponds    with    that   de- 
scribed by  Hall  in  his  account  of  a  Russian  masque  at  Westminster,  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  quoted  by  Ritson  in  illustration  of  this  play. 

"'In  the  first  year  of  King  Henry  VIII.,'  says  the  chronicler,  'at  a 
banquet  made  for  the  foreign  ambassadors  in  the  Parliament-chamber 
at  Westminster,  came  the  Lord  Henry  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  and  the  Lord 
Fitzwalter,  in  two  long  gowns  of  yellow  satin  traversed  with  white  satin, 
and  in  every  bend  of  white  was  a  bend  of  crimson  satin,  after  the  fash- 
ion of  Russia  or  Russland,  with  furred  hats  of  grey  on  their  heads, 
either  of  them  having  an  hatchet  in  their  hands,  and  boots  with  pikes 
turned  up.'  The  boots  in  Vecellio's  print  have  no  'pikes  turned  up,' 
but  we  perceive  the  '  long  gown '  of  figured  satin  or  damask,  and  the 
'  furred  hat.'  At  page  283  of  the  same  work  we  are  presented  also  with 
the  habit  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Muscovy,  a  rich  and  imposing  costume 
which  might  be  worn  by  his  majesty  of  Navarre  himself."  See  the  cut 
(copied  from  K.)  on  p.  127  above. 

122.  Parle.     Parley.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  loo:    " parling  looks."     For   the 
noun,  see  Hen.  V.  p.  164. 

123.  Lcn.<e-feat.     Plausibly  altered  by  D.  and  others  (Walker's  conject- 
ure) to  "love-suit ;"  but  love-feat  may  include  "  the  various  feats  of  par- 
leying, courting,  and  dancing  "  (Clarke). 

125.  Several.  Separate;  as  often.  See  Temp.  p.  131.  Cf.  the  quibble 
in  ii.  i.  222  above. 

146.  To  the  death.  Though  death  were  the  consequence  of  refusal. 
Cf.  Kick.  III.  iii.  2.  55 :  "I  will  not  do  it,  to  the  death." 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II. 


'59 


149.  Speaker's.     From  the  1st  quarto  ;  "  keepers  "  in  the  folios. 
152.  Ne'er.     The  quartos  and  ist  folio  have  "ere;"  corrected  in  2d 
folio. 

159.  Taffeta.     "The  taffeta  masks  they  wore  to  conceal  themselves" 
(Theo.)-     The  early  eds.  give  this  line  to  Biron  ;  corrected  by  Theo. 

160.  Parcel.     For  the  personal  use,  cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  119  :  "  this  parcel 
of  wooers;"  and  A.  IV.  ii.  3.  58:  "this  youthful  parcel  Of  noble  bache- 
lors." 

\(&.  Spirits.     Monosyllabic  (=sf  rites) ;  as  often.     Gr.  463. 

1 73.  Brings  me  out.     Puts  me  out. 

1 86.  Measure.  A  grave  and  stately  dance.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  i.  80 : 
"  a  measure,  full  of  state  and  ancientry,"  etc.  For  her  on  this,  the  quarto 
reading,  the  folios  have  "you  on  the." 

20 1.  Accompt.  For  the  noun,  the  folio  has  accompt  13  times  and  ac- 
count 17  times  ;  the  verb  is  always  account  (Schmidt). 

207.  Eyne.  An  old  plural  oleye  ;  found  without  the  rhyme  in  R.  of 
L.  1229. 

209.  Requesfst.     The  early  eds.  have  "  requests."     See  Gr.  340. 

216.  The  man.     That  is,  the  man  in  the  moon. 

222.  Curtsy.     See  on  i.  2.  60  above. 

233.  Treys.     Threes  ;  as  in  dice  and  card  playing. 

234.  Metheglin.      A  sweet  beverage.      Cf.  M.   W.  v.  5.  167  (Evans's 
speech) :   "Sack  and  wine  and  metheglins."      IVort  is  unfermented  beer. 

236.  Cog.     Deceive  ;  specifically  used  of  falsifying  dice. 

239.  Change.  Often  =exchange,  on  which  sense  Maria  plays  just  be- 
low. 

248.  Veal.  Perhaps  punning  on  the  foreign  pronunciation  of  well 
(Malone).  Boswell  quotes  The  Wisdoms  of  Dr.  Dodypoll:m 

"  Doctor.  Hans,  my  very  speciall  friend ;  fait  and  trot  me  be  right  glad  for  see  you 
veale. 
Hans    What,  do  you  make  a  calfe  of  me,  M.  Doctor?" 

The  Camb.  editors  say :  "  The  word  alluded  to  is  Vicl,  a  word  which 
would  be  likely  to  be  known  from  the  frequent  use  which  the  sailors 
from  Hamburg  or  Bremen  would  have  cause  to  make  of  the  phrase  zu 
viel  in  their  bargains  with  the  London  shopkeepers." 

260.  The  sense  of  sense.     See  on  i.  i.  64  above. 

264.  Dry-beaten.  Cudgelled,  thrashed.  See  R.  and  J.  p.  181,  and  cf. 
C.  of  E.  p.  1 19  (note  on  Dry  basting}. 

269.  Well-liking.     Well-conditioned.     Cf.  what  Falstaff  says  in  i  Hen. 
IV.  iii.  3.  6:  "I'll  repent,  while  I  am  in  some  liking"  (while  I  have 
some  flesh).     See  also  M.  W.  ii.  i.  57.     Steevens  quotes  Job,  xxix.  4. 

270.  Kingly-poor.     Poor  for  a  king  ;  not  hyphened  in  the  early  eds. 
and  perhaps  corrupt.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  kill'd  by  pure,"  and  Sr.  reads 
"  wit,  stung  by  poor."     St.  conjectures  "  wit,  poor-liking." 

275.  Weeping-ripe.  Ripe  for  weeping,  ready  to  weep  ;  used  again 
in  3  Hen.  VI.  {.4.  172:  "What,  weeping-ripe,  my  lord  Northumber- 
land ?"  Cf.  reeling-ripe  in  Temp.  v.  i.  279  and  sinking-ripe  in  C.ofE.  i. 
1.78. 

278.  No  point.     See  on  ii.  i.  189  above. 


160  NOTES, 

280.  Qualm.  Probably  a  play  on  calm,  which  seems  to  have  been  pro- 
nounced like  it.  Cf.  2  hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  40  :  "sick  of  a  calm  ;"  and  see  our 
ed.  p.  167. 

282.  Statute-caps.  Woollen  caps,  which,  by  act  of  Parliament  in  1571, 
the  citizens  were  required  to  wear  on  Sundays  and  holidays.  The  nobil- 
ity were  exempt  from  the  requirement,  which,  as  Strype  informs  us,  was 
"  in  behalf  ol  the  trade  of  cappers  " — one  of  sundry  such  "  protection  " 
measures  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  The  meaning  evidently  is,  that 
"  better  wits  may  be  found  among  citizens "  (Steevens),  or  common 
folk. 

284.  Quick.     Sprightly.     See  on  i.  I.  159  above. 

299.  Angels  vailing  clouds.  That  is,  letting  fall  the  clouds  that  have 
masked  or  hidden  them.  For  vail- lower,  let  fall,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  128, 
or  Ham.  p.  179.  Theo.  reads  : 

"  Or  angel-veiling  clouds ;  are  roses  blown, 
Dismaskt,  their  damask  sweet  commixture  shewn ;" 

and  Warb.  the  same,  except  "angels  veil'd  in  "  for  "angel-veiling." 
305.  Shapeless.     Unshapely,  ugly  ;  as  in  R.  of  L.  973  and  C.  of  E.  iv. 

2.  20. 

314.   Thither.     From  1st  quarto  ;  omitted  in  folios. 

317.  As  pigeons  pease.     Steevens  quotes  from  Ray's  Proverbs: 

"  Children  pick  up  words  as  pigeons  peas, 
And  utter  them  again  as  God  shall  please." 

318.  God.     The  reading  of  1st  quarto,  changed  in  the  folio  to  "Jove ;" 
doubtless  on  account  of  the  statute  against  the  use  of  the  name  of  God 
on  the  stage. 

320.  Wassails.     Drinking-bouts,  carousals.     See  Macb.  p.  180. 

325.  Carve.  Carving  was  considered  a  courtly  accomplishment;  but 
the  word  here  probably  has  the  same  sense  as  in  M.  W.  i.  3.  49 :  "  She 
discourses,  she  carves,  she  gives  the  leer  of  invitation  "  (see  our  ed.  p. 
137),  where  it  refers  to  making  certain  signs  with  the  fingers,  or  a  kind 
of  amorous  telegraphy. 

On  lisp,  cf.  M.  W.  iii.  3.  77 :  "  these  lisping  hawthorn  buds,  that  come 
like  women  in  men's  apparel,"  etc. 

328.  Tables.     The  old  name  for  backgammon. 

330.  A  mean.  A  tenor.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  95:  "The  mean  is 
drown'd  by  your  unruly  base  ;"  and  W.  T.  iv.  3.  46:  "  means  and  bases." 
Steevens  quotes  Bacon:  "The  treble  cutteth  the  air  so  sharp,  as  it  re- 
turneth  too  swift  to  make  the  sound  equal ;  and  therefore  a  mean  or  tenor 
is  the  sweetest." 

334.  Whale's.  A  dissyllable.  Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  iii.  I.  15:  "And  eke, 
through  feare,  as  white  as  whales  bone."  The  simile  was  a  common  one 
in  the  old  poets,  as  Steevens  shows  by  many  quotations.  The  reference 
is  to  the  tooth  of  the  walrus,  or  "  horse-whale,"  then  much  used  as  a 
substitute  for  ivory. 

336.  Boyet.     The  rhyme  with  debt  is  to  be  noted.     Cf.  p.  128  above. 

340.  This  man.  The  early  eds.  have  "this  madman;"  corrected  by 
Theo.  The  Camb.  ed.  retains  "  madman." 


ACT   V.    SCENE  II.  !6l 

342.  In  all  hail.     With  a  play  on  hail—  hail-stones  (Clarke). 
350.  Must  break.     Hanmer  reads  "makes  break." 

367.  To  the  manner.     According  to  the  manner,  or  fashion. 

368.  Undeserving  praise.     Undeserved  praise,  or  praise  to  the  unde- 
serving.    Cf.  Gr.  372. 

376.  When  -we  greet,  etc.  That  is,  when  we  look  upon  the  sun  it  daz- 
zles or  blinds  our  eyes. 

391.  We  are  df scried,  etc.  This  speech  and  next  are  spoken  aside,  as 
is  evident  from  what  the  princess  says  immediately  after  ;  but  no  former 
editor,  so  tar  as  we  are  aware,  has  marked  them  so. 

394.  Swoon.  The  quartos  and  1st  folio  have  "sound,"  which  was  one 
of  the  ways  of  spelling  the  word.  It  is  found  in  the  folio  in  M.  A'.  D. 
ii.  2.  154,  A.  Y.  L.  v.  2.  29,  Rick.  III.  iv.  i.  35,  R.  and  J.  iii.  2.  56,  etc. 
The  later  folios  have  "swound,"  which  often  occurs  in  the  early  eds. 
In  R.  of  L.  1486,  we  find  swounds  rhyming  with  wounds.  Swown  and 
swoond  (present)  are  other  old  forms. 

406.  Friend.  Sometimes  =  mistress  ;  as  in  M.  for  M.  i.  4.  29:  "He 
hath  got  his  friend  with  child."  For  the  corresponding  masculine  use, 
see  Cymb.  p.  171. 

409.  T'lree-pird.  Superfine  ;  or  like  three-piled  velvet,  the  richest 
kind.  Cf.  M.for  M.  i.  2.  33  :  "thou  art  good  velvet ;  thou  'rt  a  three- 
piled  piece  ;"  and  W.  T.  iv.  3.  14:  "and  in  my  time  wore  three-pile." 

For  affectation  (Rowe's  reading)  the  early  eds.  have  "  affection."  See 
on  v.  i.  4  above.  W.  retains  "  affection,"  which  he  would  make  a  quad- 
risyllable, rhyming  with  ostentati-on.  Hyferioles,  he  says,  is  a  trisyllable, 
hy-per-boles,  as  in  T.  and  C.  i.  3.  161  :  "Would  seem  hyperboles.  At 
this  fusty  stuff."  But  ostentati-on  would  make  the  line  an  Alexandrine, 
which  (see  on  i.  i.  108  above)  S.  rarely  used  in  his  early  plays ;  and  it 
does  not  seem  at  all  necessary  to  make  hyfet  bole  a  trisyllable  in  T.  and  C. 
Affectation  is  found  in  the  folio  in  M.  W.  i.  i.  152  and  flam.  ii.  2.  464; 
affection  (in  the  same  sense)  only  here  and  in  v.  i.  4  above. 

415.  Russet.  Homespun  ;  russet  being  a  common  color  for  such  fab- 
rics. Kersey  was  a  coarse  woollen  stuff. 

417.  Sans.  Without;  a  French  word  that  had  become  quite  Angli- 
cized in  the  time  of  S.  See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  163.  In  her  reply  Rosaline  bids 
him  speak  without  sans,  that  is,  ''  without  French  words"  (Tynvhitt). 

421.  Lo rd have  mercy  on  us.  "The  inscription  put  upon  the  doors  of 
the  houses  infected  with  the  plague.  The  tokens  of  the  plague  are  the 
first  spots  or  discolorations  by  which  the  infection  is  known  to  be  re- 
ceived" (Johnson).  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iii.  10.  9:  "like  the  token'd  pesti- 
lence ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  197. 

427.  States.     Estates.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  151,  note  on  Estate. 

429.  Being  those  that  sue.  A  play  upon  sue  =  prosecute  by  law  (John- 
son). 

436.  Well-advifd.  Probably  =in  your  right  mind.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  ii.  2. 
215:  "mad  or  well  advis'd?"  See  also  Rich.  III.  p.  192.  The  ordinary 
sense  of  "acting  with  due  deliberation,"  which  most  editors  give  here, 
seems  rather  tame. 

442.  Force  not.     "Make  no  difficulty"  (Johnson),  or  "care  not  for" 

L 


J62  NOTES. 

(Schmidt).     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1021 :  "I  force  not  argument  a  straw."    Coll. 
quotes  the  interlude  of  Jacob  and  Esau,  1568  : 

"  O  Lorde !  some  good  body,  for  Gods  sake,  gyve  me  meate, 
I  force  not  what  it  were,  so  that  I  had  to  eate." 

461.  Neither  of  either.     A  common  expression  of  the  time,  found  in 
The  London  Prodigal  and  other  comedies  (Malone). 

462.  Consent.     Compact,  conspiracy. 

465.  Please-man.     Pickthank,  parasite. 

A  zany  was  a  subordinate  buffoon.  Cf.  T.  N.  \.  5.  96:  "the  fools'  za- 
nies ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  129. 

466.  Trencher- knight.     Servingman.     Cf.  479  below. 

467.  In  years.     Probably  =into  wrinkles,  like  those  of  age.     Cf.  M. 
of  V.  i.  i.  80:  "  With  mirth  and  laughter  let  old  wrinkles  come."     Theo.- 
reads  "  in  jeers." 

473.  In  will,  and  error.  "  First  wilfully,  afterwards  by  mistake  " 
(Clarke). 

476.  Squire.     Square,  or  foot-rule.     Cf.  W.  T.  p.  199,  or  i  Hen.  IV. 
p.  159.     There  is  a  vulgar  proverb,  "  He  has  the  length  of  her  foot"=he 
knows  her  humour  exactly  (Heath). 

477.  Upon  the  apple  of  her  eye.     In  obedience  to  her  glance. 

480.  You  are  allowed.  "An  allowed  fool"  (T.  JV.  i.  5.  101),  a  privi- 
leged jester. 

484.  Manage  .  . .  career.  Terms  of  the  stable  and  the  tilt-yard.  On 
manage,  see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  136.  A  career  was  an  encounter  of  knights  at 
full  gallop.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  i.  2.  49,  etc.  For  manage  the  folios  have 
"  manager,"  and  the  1st  quarto  "  nuage  ;"  corrected  by  Theo. 

492.  You  cannot  beg  us.  "  That  is,  we  are  not  fools  ;  our  next  rela- 
tions cannot  beg  the  wardship  of  our  persons  and  fortunes.  One  of 
the  legal  tests  of  a  natural  is  to  try  whether  he  can  number"  (John- 
son). Cf.  C.  of  E.  p.  116,  note  on  Fool-begged.  K.  remarks:  "One 
of  the  most  abominable  corruptions  of  the  feudal  system  of  government 
was  for  the  sovereign,  who  was  the  legal  guardian  of  idiots,  to  grant  the 
wardship  of  such  an  unhappy  person  to  some  favourite,  granting  with  the 
idiot  the  right  of  using  his  property.  Ritson,  and  Douce  more  correctly, 
give  a  curious  anecdote  illustrative  of  this  custom,  and  of  its  abuse: 

" '  The  Lord  North  begg'd  old  Bladwell  for  a  foole  (though  he  could 
never  prove  him  so),  and  having  him  in  his  custodie  as  a  lunaticke,  he 
carried  him  to  a  gentleman's  house,  one  day,  that  was  his  neighbour. 
The  L.  North  and  the  gentleman  retir'd  awhile  to  private  discourse,  and 
left  Bladwell  in  the  dining-roome,  which  was  hung  with  a  faire  hanging  ; 
Bladwell  walking  up  and  downe,  and  viewing  the  imagerie,  spyed  a  foole 
at  last  in  the  hanging,  and  without  delay  drawes  his  knife,  flyes  at  the 
foole,  cutts  him  cleane  out,  and  layes  him  on  the  floore ;  my  Lord  and 
the  gentleman  coming  in  againe,  and  finding  the  tapestrie  thus  defac'd, 
he  ask'd  Bladwell  what  he  meant  by  such  a  rude  uncivill  act ;  he  an- 
swered, Sir,  be  content,  I  have  rather  done  you  a  courtesie  than  a  wrong, 
for,  if  ever  my  L.  N.  had  scene  the  foole  there  he  would  have  begg'd 
him,  and  so  you  might  have  lost  your  whole  suite'  (ffarl.  MS.  6395)." 

502.  Wkereunlil.     Whereunto,  to  what. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II  X63 

503.  Pursent.     The  early  eds.  have  "  parfect "  or  "  perfect "  (correct- 
ed by  W.),  and  "  in  "  for  e'en  (corrected  by  Malone). 

504.  Pompion.     The  early  eds.  have  here  "  Pompey  ;"    corrected  by 
Rowe. 

517,  518.  Where  zeal,  etc.  We  leave  this  passage  as  in  the  folio  (with 
W.  and  the  Camb.  editors),  in  preference  to  adopting  any  one  of  the 
many  emendations  that  have  been  proposed.  The  plural  contents  is  used 
for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme ;  and  the  meaning  seems  to  be :  where  zeal 
strives  to  please,  but  the  very  effort  is  fatal  to  the  pleasure.  The  con- 
text is  the  best  commentary  upon  it.  For  the  singular  Dies,  see  Gr. 

333- 

Hanmer  reads  "  content  Dies  in  the  zeal  of  that  it  doth  present ;" 
Steevens,  "contents  Die  in  the  zeal  of  them  which  it  presents  ;"  Sr.  and 
H.,  "contents  Lie  in  the  fail  of  that  which  it  presents  ;"  and  Clarke  (Ma- 
son's conjecture),  "  content  Lies  in  the  zeal  of  those  which  it  present." 
For  other  conjectures,  see  the  Camb.  ed. 

527.  Honey.  For  the  personal  use,  cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  179,  T.and  C. 
v.  2.  18,  A',  and  J.  ii.  5.  18,  etc. 

529.  For  tuna  de  la  guerra.  Fortune  of  war  (Spanish).  Hanmer  has 
"della  guerra,"  forgetting  that  Armado  is  a  Spaniard  and  not  an  Italian. 
The  early  eds.  have  "delaguar;"  and  Schmidt  conjectures  "del  agua" 
(of  the  water,  alluding  to  the  old  saying  that  swimming  must  be  tried  in 
the  water)  or  "de  la  guarda"  (of  guard,  "that  is,  guarding  Fortune"). 

531.  Conplement,  Used  here  for  couple.  In  Sonn.  21.  5  it  is  =  com- 
bination. 

542.  Novnm.     Hanmer  reads  "novem."     Novum   (or  noveni)  was  a 
game   at   dice.      Steevens  quotes   Greene,  Art  of  Legerdemain,   1612 : 
"The  principal  use  of  them  [dice]  is  at  novum,"  etc.     Abate  —  leave  out, 
except;  and  the  meaning  is:  "except  in  a  throw  at  novum,  the  whole 
world  could  not  furnish  five  such." 

543.  Pick.     The  reading  of  1st  quarto ;    the  other  early  eds.  have 
"  prick." 

546.  Libbard's.  Leopard's ;  the  knee-caps  in  old  dresses  and  plate- 
armour  often  being  in  the  form  of  a  leopard's  head  (D.). 

563.  Stands  too  right.  According  to  Plutarch,  Alexander's  head  had 
a  twist  towards  the  left.  The  next  line  alludes  to  the  statement  of  the 
same  author  that  Alexander's  skin  had  "a  marvellous  good  savour." 

572.  The  painted  cloth.     For  the  historical  and  other  paintings  on  the 
cloth  hangings  of  rooms,  see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  176. 

573.  That  holds  his  poll-axe,  etc.     The  arms  of  Alexander,  as  given  in 
the  old  history  of  the  Nine  Worthies,  were  a  lion  sitting  in  a  chair  hold- 
ing a  battle-axe  (Toilet). 

574.  Ajax.     There  is  a  play  on  a  jakcs ;  a  coarse  joke  that  occurs  in 
B.  J.,  Camclen,  Sir  John  Harington,  and  other  writers  of  the  time. 

575.  Afeard.     The   quarto   has   afeard,  and  the   folios   afraid.     The 
forms  are  used  interchangeably  in  the  early  eds. 

580.  A  little  o'erparted.     With  a  part,  or  rSle,  a  little  too  much  for  him. 

582.  Sland  aside,  etc.     The  Coll.  MS.  here  has  the  stage  direction 

"  Exit  Costard ;"  not  noted  in  the  Camb.  ed.     W.  (apparently  misled 


1 64  NOTES. 

by  Coll.)  ascribes  this  stage-direction  to  the  folio.     See  on  657  and  662 

below. 

583.  Imp,     Youngster.     See  on  i.  2.  5  above. 

584.  Cat/us.     Dog  (Latin  canis) ;  reading  of  the  early  eds.,  which  may 
be  retained  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme.     Rowe  reads  "canis." 

593.  Ycliped.  Yclept ;  mispronounced  for  the  sake  of  the  joke  that 
follows. 

605.  A  cittern-head.  A  cittern  (cithern,  gittern,  or  guitar)  often  had  a 
grotesque  face  carved  upon  its  head. 

610.  Flask.     That  is,  a  powder-flask  ;  as  in  R.  and  J.  iii.  3.  132. 

611.  Half-cheek  iu  a  brooch.     Profile  on  a  clasp,  or  buckle.     Cf.  half- 
face  in  K.  John,  i.  I.  92. 

625.  Baited.     Worried  ;  like  a  baited  bear  or  bull. 

628.  Come  home  by  me.     That  is,  come  home  to  me. 

630.  Trojan.  The  early  eds.  have  "  Troyan,"  as  often  elsewhere.  The 
word  was  much  used  as  a  term  of  contempt.  See  I  Hen.  IV.  p.  158. 

635.  The  small.     That  is,  of  the  leg. 

638.  Lances.  Lancers  ;  as  in  Lear,  v.  3.  50 :  "  our  iinpress'd  lances," 
etc. 

640.  A  gilt  nutmeg.  Mentioned  by  B.  J.  in  his  Christmas  Mastjue  as 
a  present  (Steevens).  The  1st  quarto  has  "  gift "  for  gilt.  An  orange 
or  lemon,  stuck  with  cloves,  was  a  common  new-year's  gift. 

647.  Breathed.  Endowed  with  breath,  or  "  wind."  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iii. 
13.  178:  *' treble-sinew'd,  hearted,  breath'd." 

For  fight  ye  (Rowe's  reading)  the  early  eds.  have  "  fight ;  yea." 

655,  656.  When  he  breathed .  .  .  man.  From  the  1st  quarto  ;  not  in  the 
folios. 

657.  After  this  line  Capell  gives  the  stage-direction,  " Biron  steps  to 
Costard  and  whispers  him  ;"  that  is,  putting  him  up  to  the  trick  on  Ar- 
mado. 

662.  This  Hector,  etc.      After  this  speech  Coll.  gives,  from  his  MS., 
the  stage-direction  "Re-enter  Costard,  in  haste,  unarmed  ;"  not  noted  in 
the  Camb.  ed.     Coll.  remarks  :   "  Unless  he  had  gone  out,  it  is  not  easy 
to  see  how  he  had  obtained  the  information  he  brings."     D.,  who  adopts 
Capell's  stage-direction  at  657  just  above,  has  here  "  Costard  {suddenly 
coming  from  behind}.  The  party  is  gone,"  etc.     W.,  who  makes  Costard 
leave  at  582  above,  has  at  657  " Birone goes  out"  and  here  " Enter  COS- 
TARD hastily  and  unarmed,  and  BIRONE  after  him."     It  is  doubtful  just 
how  the  trick  was  meant  to  be  managed,  and  any  one  of  the  ways  sug- 
gested by  the  editors  would  do  well  enough  on  the  stage.     It  could  safely 
be  left  to  the  actors  without  any  stage-direction,  as  in  the  Camb.  eel. 

663.  The  party  is  gone.     Printed  in  italics  as  a  stage-direction  in  the 
early  eds. 

671.  Quick  by  him.  There  is  a  play  on  quick=a\\ve.  See  Hen.  V. 
p.  156,  and  cf.  Acts,  x.  42,  etc. 

678.  More  Ates.  "  That  is,  more  instigation.  Ate  was  the  mischiev- 
ous goddess  that  incited  bloodshed  "  (Johnson).  Cf.  Much  Ado,  p.  132. 

684.  Fight  with  a  pole,  etc.  That  is.  with  the  quarter-staff,  a  long  pole 
in  the  use  of  which  the  men  of  the  North  of  England  were  skilful. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II.  165 

685.  I  pray  you.     The  ist  quarto  has  "bepray." 

686.  My  arms.     "  The  weapons  and  armour  which  he  wore  in  his  char- 
acter of  Pompey  "  (Johnson). 

690.  Let  me  take  you,  etc.  "  Perhaps  =let  me  speak  without  ceremo- 
ny" (Schmidt). 

700.  Woolward.  That  is,  With  woollen  next  to  the  skin,  or  without 
linen.  Grey  quotes  Stowe's  Annals:  "  he  went  woolvvard  and  barefooted 
to  many  churches,  in  every  of  them  to  pray  to  God  for  help  in  his  blind- 
ness." Farmer  adds  from  Lodge's  Incarnate  Devils,  1596:  "  His  com- 
mon course  is  to  go  always  untrust  [untrussed] ;  except  when  his  shirt  is 
a  washing,  and  then  he  goes  woolvvard." 

713.  /  have  seen,  etc.  "  Armado  means  to  say  in  his  affected  style, 
that  he  had  discovered  that  he  was  wronged,  and  was  determined  to  right 
himself  as  a  soldier"  (Mason).  "Onejnay  see  day  at  a  little  hole"  is 
found  in  Ray's  Proverbs.  Through  the  little  hole  of  discretion  may  be 
=  "  though  discreetly  forbearing  from  righting  myself  until  I  can  do  it 
with  dignity,"  as  Steevens  and  Clarke  explain  it. 

723.  Liberal.  Too  free,  over-bold.  It  is  used  in  a  yet  stronger  sense 
in  Much  Ado,  iv.  i.  93  :  "a  liberal  villain,"  etc.  See  our  ed.  p.  154,  or 
Ham.  p.  258. 

725.  Converse  of  breath.  That  is,  in  conversation.  For  the  accent 
of  converse,  cf.  Oth.  iii.  i.  40.  Steevens  compares  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  141: 
"  this  breathing  courtesy  "  (that  is,  these  courteous  words). 

727.  Nimble.  The  early  eds.  have  "  humble ;"  corrected  by  Theo. 
The  Coll.  MS.  changes  not  to  "  but." 

730.  The  extreme  parts  of  time,  etc.  We  retain  the  folio  reading, 
which  Dr.  B.  Nicholson  (Trans,  of  New.  Shaks.  Soc.  for  1874,  p.  513) 
explains  thus:  "The  extreme  parts  are  the  end  parts,  extremities — as,  of 
our  body,  the  ringers ;  of  chains,  the  final  links ;  of  given  portions  of 
time,  the  last  of  those  units  into  which  we  choose  to  divide  them.  Af- 
terwards (in  777)  the  King,  representing  the  stay  of  the  Princess  as  for  an 
hour,  calls  the  extreme  part  'the  latest  minute,'  and  the  thought  in  both 
passages  is  so  far  the  same.  It  is  not  however  said  that  our  decision  is 
necessitated  by  the  extremity  of  the  moment,  though  this  is  perhaps  sug- 
gested to  us  by  the  sound  of  the  words  used  ;  but  that  concurring  cir- 
cumstances, and  therefore  Time,  as  the  producer  of  those  circumstances, 
so  influence  our  decision  that  he,  and  not  we,  may  be  called  the  decider. 
Hence  Time,  as  personified,  and  as  the  intelligential  agent  of  whom  the 
extreme  parts  are  but  the  instrumental  members,  is  considered  as  the  true 
nominative  to  the  verb  forms,  and  is  represented  as  fashioning  or  mould- 
ing all  causes  or  questions  to  the  purposes  of  his  speed,  that  is,  to  his 
own  intents,  or  to  those  of  the  fate  or  Providence  of  which  he  is  the  sub- 
agent.  This  thought  has  been  forced  upon  the  King  by  finding  that  his 
high  resolves  of  study  were  at  once  broken  by  the  coming  of  the  Princess, 
while  her  sudden  departure  shows  him  that  he  cannot  do  without  her  love  ; 
and  he  urges  it  as  an  excuse  for  the  intrusion  of  his  love  on  her  time  of 
grief,  and  as  an  excuse  for  her  favourable  reply. 

"  In  the  next  lines,  though  still  personifying  Time,  the  King  changes  his 
illustration.  Often  the  archer  may  weigh  variously  all  the  circumstances 


r66  NOTES. 

— the  bow,  the  arrow,  the  intended  strength  of  shot  and  elevation,  the 
wind  and  the  like — and  so  vary  from  moment  to  moment ;  \>\&.atthevery 
loose,  or  loosing  of  the  shaft  (an  act  the  proper  doing  of  which  was  much 
dwelt  on  by  archers)  he  comes  to  a  quick  and  determined  decision.  '  So 
during  your  stay,  princess,'  says  the  King, '  I  and  my  lords  acted  doubt- 
fully between  our  former  resolves  and  our  new  loves,  and  you  have  dal- 
lied with  us:  now  at  your  departure,  at  the  last  moment,  I  decide  and 
ask  your  love ;  do  you  answer  with  the  same  determinaten«ss.'  In  re- 
tort, the  Princess  most  consistently  decides  in  accord  with  the  events 
which  Time  has  purposed  in  her  regard,  for  the  declaration  of  the  King 
is  only  one  of  these,  another  and  the  first  being  the  news  of  her  father's 
death. 

"  The  thought  of  the  first  two  lines  is  allied  and  similar  to  Hamlet's 

'  There  's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  as  we  will ;' 

just  as  the  rest  expresses  the  similar  idea  specially  illustrated  in  the  ca- 
tastrophe of  that  play.  But  here  the  subject  being  of  a  gentler  nature, 
the  King  speaks  more  conversationally  and  less  reflectively  than  Hamlet 
does,  and  of  Time  and  not  of  a  Providence  or  divinity." 

D.  reads  "  part "  for  parts,  Sr.  and  W.  "  haste,"  and  St.  and  H.  "  dart." 
It  is  plausibly  urged  in  support  of  the  last  that  it  is  in  keeping  with  the 
figure  in  loose  ;  but  it  is  common  enough  for  a  figure  to  be  introduced  in 
the  course  of  a  passage,  and  here  it  is  naturally  suggested  by  the  refer- 
ence to  the  speed  with  which  time  flies.  Forms  has  been  changed  to 
"form,"  but  quite  unnecessarily.  Cf.  Gr.  333. 

Extreme  is  accented  on  the  first  syllable  because  preceding  the  noun. 
See  on  profound,  in  iv.  3.  163  above. 

736.  Convince.     Overcome,  conquer.     See  M<icb.  pp.  180,  242. 

742.  Dull.  The  early  eds.  have  "  double."  Dull  is  from  the  Coll.  MS. 
and  is  adopted  by  W.  and  H.  Capell  reads  "deaf,"  and  St.  conjectures 
"hear  dully." 

750.  Strains.     Impulses,  vagaries.     Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  I.  91,  T,  of  A.  iv.  3. 
213.  etc. 

751.  Skipping.     Flighty,  frivolous.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii.  2.  196  : 

"  Pray  thee,  take  pain 
To  allay  with  some  cold  drops  of  modesty 
Thy  skipping  spirit,  lest  through  thy  wild  behaviour 
I  be  misconstrued,"  etc. 

753.  Strange.  The  early  eds.  have  "straying;"  corrected  by  Capell. 
Coleridge  conjectured  "stray." 

758.  Have  misbeconi'd.  Capell  changed  Have  to  "  'T  hath  ;"  but  the 
"confusion  of  construction"  is  like  many  other  instances  in  S.  Cf.  Gr. 
411-416  (in  418  Abbott  compares  this  passage  with  a  Latin  idiom,  but 
the  coincidence  is  doubtless  accidental). 

For  the  form  misbeconi'd,  cf.  becomed  in  R.  and  J.  iv.  2.  26,  A.  and  C.  iii. 
7.  26,  and  Cymb.  v.  5.  406. 

760.  Suggested.     Tempted ;  as  in  Oth.  ii.  3.  358  : 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II. 

"  When  devils  will  the  blackest  sins  put  on, 
They  do  suggest  at  first  with  heavenly  shows.'1 


I67 


See  also  Rich.  II.  pp.  153,  198.     Cf.  suggestions  in  i.  i.  156  above. 

771.  Bombast.     Originally,  cotton  used  to  stuff  out  garments.     Cf.  the 
quotation  from  Stubbes  in  note  on  iii.  1. 15  above.    Gerarde,  in  his  Herbal, 
calls  the  cotton  plant  "  the  bombast  tree  ;"  and  Lupton,  in  A  Thousand 
Notable  Things,  speaks  of  a  candle  "  with  a  wick  of  bumbast." 

772.  This  in  our.   The  1st  quarto  has  "  this  our,"  and  the  folios  "  these 
are  our;"  corrected  by  Hanmer.     Rcspects  =  considerations,  thoughts. 

776.  Quote.  Construe,  interpret.  Cf.  misquote  —  misconstrue,  in  i  Hen. 
IV.  v.  2.  13,  the  only  instance  of  the  word  in  S.  See  also  ii.  i.  245 
above. 

779.  World-without-end.     Cf.  Sonn.  57.  5  : 

"  Nor  dare  I  chide  the  world-without-end  hour 
Whilst  I,  my  sovereign,  watch  the  clock  for  you." 

781.  Dear.  Used  in  an  intensive  sense  ;  as  in  854  below.  See  also 
on  ii.  i.  i  above. 

791.   Weeds.     Garments.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  149. 

793.  Last  love.     "  Continue  to  be  love  "  (Steevens). 

795.  Challenge  me,  challenge  me.  Hanmer  omits  the  first  me;  not 
noted  in  the  Camb.  ed. 

804.  Flatter  up.  Hanmer  reads  "  fetter  up."  For  the  up,  see  on  iv. 
3.  300  above.  The  meaning  is:  "in  order  that  I  might  soothe  or  pamper 
these  faculties  of  mine  by  leading  a  life  of  repose  "  (Clarke). 

807-812.  And  what  .  .  .  sick.  Enclosed  in  brackets  by  Theo.  and 
omitted  by  Hanmer.  It  is  evidently  a  part  of  the  first  sketch  which  was 
rewritten  in  revising  the  play.  See  on  iv.  3.  294  above. 

808.  Rank.     The  early  eds.  have  "rack'd;"  corrected  by  Rowe.     Ct. 
Ham.  iii.  3.  36 :  "  O,  my  offence  is  rank/'  etc. 

809.  Attaint.     Attainted.     For  the  form,  see  Gr.  342. 

814.  A  wife?  The  early  eds.  give  this  to  Katherine,  reading:  "A 
wife  ?  a  beard,  faire  health,"  etc.  Hanmer  has  "  No  wife  :  a  beard,"  etc. 
D.  was  the  first  to  transfer  A  wife  ?  to  Uumain,  in  whose  mouth  it  seems 
more  natural. 

835.  All  estates.  All  kinds  or  conditions  of  people  ;  as  in  Rich.  I II. 
iii.  7.213:  "And  equally,  indeed,  to  all  estates."  Latimer,  in  his  Ser- 
mans, $a.ys  it  is  the  duty  of  a  king  "to  see  to  all  estates,  to  provide  for 
the  poor,"  etc.  For  execute  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "exercise." 

843.  Fierce.     Ardent,  strenuous  ;  as  in  Lear,  ii.  i.  36,  etc. 

854.  Dear.     Changed  by  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "dire."     See  on  781  above. 

855.  Continue  them.     The  early  eds.  have  "then;"  corrected  in  the 
Coll.  MS. 

859.  Reformation.     Metrically  five  syllables.     Gr.  479. 

863.  Bring  you.  Accompany  you.  Cf.  IV.  T.  iv.  3.  122:  "Shall  I  bring 
thee  on  the  way?"  See  also  Gen.  xviii.  16,  Acts,  xxi.  5,  2  Cor.  i.  16,  etc. 

865.  Jack  hath  not  Jill.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  461  :  "Jack  shall  have 
Jill ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  171. 

882.  Pied.   Variegated.    Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3. 80  :  "  streak'd  and  pied,"  etc. 


1 68  NOTES. 

883,  884.  And  lady- smocks \  etc.     These  two  lines  are  transposed  in  all 
the  early  eds.;  corrected  by  Theo. 

Lady-smocks.  Ellacombe  (Plant-Lore  of  S.)  says  :  "  Lady-smocks  are 
the  flowers  of  Cardamine  pratensis,  the  pretty  early  meaduw  flower  of 
which  children  are  so  fond,  and  of  which  the  popularity  is  shown  by  its 
many  names,  Lady-smocks,  Cuckoo-flower,  Meadow  Cress,  Pinks,  Spinks, 
Bog-spinks,  and  May-flower,  and  'in  Northfolke,  Canterbury  Bells.'  The 
origin  of  the  name  is  not  very  clear.  It  is  generally  explained  from  the 
resemblance  of  the  flowers  to  smocks  hung  out  to  dry,  but  the  resem- 
blance seems  to  me  rather  far-fetched.  According  to  another  explana- 
tion,'the  Lady-smock,  a  corruption  of  Our  Lady's-smock,  is  so  called 
from  its  first  flowering  about  Lady-tide.  It  is  a  pretty  purplish-white, 
tetradynamous  plant,  which  blows  from  Lady-tide  till  the  end  of  May,  and 
which  during  the  latter  end  of  April  covers  the  moist  meadows  with  its 
silvery-white,  which  looks  at  a  distance  like  a  white  sheet  spread  over 
the  fields  '  (Circle  of  the  Seasons'],  Those  who  adopt  this  view  called  the 
plant  Our  Lady's-smock,  but  I  cannot  find  that  name  in  any  old  writers. 
Drayton,  coeval  with  Shakespeare,  says  : 

'  Some  to  gjace  the  show, 

Of  Lady-smocks  most  white  do  rob  each  neighbouring  mead, 
Wherewith  their  loose  locks  most  curiously  they  braid.' 

And  Isaac  Walton,  in  the  next  century,  drew  that  pleasant  picture  of  him- 
self sitting  quietly  by  the  waterside — 'looking  down  the  meadows  I  could 
see  here  a  boy  gathering  Lilies  and  Lady-smocks,  and  there  a  girl  crop- 
ping Culverkeys  and  Cowslips.'" 

884.  Cuckoo -buds.     "There  is  a  difficulty  in    deciding  what   flower 
Shakespeare  meant  by  Cuckoo-buds.     We  now  always  give  the  name  to 
the  Meadow  Cress  (Cardamine  pratensis),  but  it  cannot  be  that  in  either 
of  these  passages,  because  that  flower  is  mentioned  under  its  other  name 
of  Lady-smocks  in  the  previous  line,  nor  is  it  'of  yellow  hue  ;'  nor  does 
it  grow  among  Corn,  as  described  in  Lear,  iv.  4.  4.     Many  plants  have 
been  suggested,  but  I  think  the  Buttercup,  as  suggested  by  Dr.  Prior,  will 
best  meet  the  requirements  "  (Ellacombe).    Farmer  conjectures  "  cowslip- 
buds,"  and  Whalley  "crocus-buds." 

887.  Mocks  married  men.  The  note  of  the  cuckoo  was  thought  to  prog- 
nosticate cuckoldom.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  i.  134  and  A.  W.  i.  3.  67.  See  also 
M.  W.  p.  143. 

893.    Turtles.     Turtle-doves.     See  on  iv.  3.  207  above. 

900.  Hang  by  the  wall.     That  is,  from  the  eaves.     Malone  compares 
Hen.  V.  iii.  5.  23  and  Temp.  v.  I.  17. 

901.  BliKvs  his  nail.     To  warm  his  fingers.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.  3  : 
"  the  shepherd,  blowing  of  his  nails."     See  also  T.  of  S.  i.  I.  109. 

906,  907.  Tu-whoo,  etc.  The  early  eds.  have  only  "Tu-whit  to-who," 
both  here  and  in  the  next  stanza.  Capell  was  the  first  to  make  the  meas- 
ure correspond  with  that  of  the  preceding  stanzas. 

908.  Keel.  Cool ;  that  is,  by  stirring  it.  Clarke  says  the  word  came 
also  to  mean  skimming  off  the  scum  that  rose  to  the  top,  which  may  be 
the  sense  here.  Coll.  quotes  Piers  Plowman: 


ADDENDA. 


"  And  lerede  men  a  ladel  bygge,  with  a  long  stele 
That  caste  for  to  kele  a  crockke,  and  save  the  fatte  above;" 


169 


that  is,  they  skimmed  the  crock,  or  pot,  with  a  ladle,  in  order  to  save  the 
fat.  Schmidt  also  defines  keel  as  "to  scum  (German  kielen)." 

910.  Saw.  Moral  saying,  maxim.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  156  :  "  Full  of  wise 
saws  ;"  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  3.  61  :  "  holy  saws  of  sacred  writ,"  etc. 

913.  Crabs.  Crab-apples  ;  often  roasted  and  put  into  the  wassail-bowl. 
Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  48  (Puck's  speech)  : 

"  And  sometime  lurk  I  in  a  gossip's  bowl, 
In  very  likeness  of  a  roasted  crab; 

and  see  our  ed.  p.  140. 


ADDENDA. 

THE  "TIME-ANALYSIS"  OF  THE  PLAY.— This  is  given  by  Mr.  P.  A, 
Daniel,  in  his  paper  "On  the  Times  or  Durations  of  the  Action  of  Shak- 
spere's  Plays  "  (Trans,  of  ATew  Shaks.  Soc.  1877-79,  P-  H5)  as  follows  : 

"Day  I. — The  first  ctey  of  the  action  includes  Acts  I.  and  II.  In  it  the 
Princess  of  France  has  her  first  interview  with  the  King  of  Navarre. 
Toward  the  end  of  Act  II.  certain  documents  required  for  the  establish- 
ment of  the  French  claims  are  stated  to  have  not  yet  come  ;  but,  says 
Boyet,  'to-morrow  you  shall  have  a  sight  of  them  '  (1.  165),  and  the  King 
tells  the  Princess — '  To-morrow  shall  we  visit  you  again'  (1.  176). 

"Day  2. — Act  III.  Armado  intrusts  Costard  with  a  letter  to  Jaque- 
netta  ;  immediately  afterwards  Biron  also  intrusts  him  with  a  letter  for 
Rosaline,  which  he  is  to  deliver  this  afternoon  (1.  153). 

"Act  IV.  sc.  i.  The  Princess  remarks  that  'to-day  we  shall  have  our 
dispatch.'  This  fixes  the  scene  as  the  morrow  referred  to  in  the  first 
day.  Costard  now  enters  to  deliver,  as  he  supposes,  the  letter  intrusted 
to  him  by  Biron.  He  mistakes,  howeVer,  and  gives  up  Armado's  letter 
to  Jaquenetta. 

"Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  Costard  and  Jaquenetta  come  to  Holofernes  and 
Nathaniel  to  get  them  to  read  the  letter,  as  they  suppose,  of  Armado  to 
Jaquenetta.  It  turns  out  to  be  the  letter  of  Biron  to  Rosaline,  and  Cos- 
tard and  Jaquenetta  are  sent  off  to  give  it  up  at  once  to  the  King.  It  is 
clear  that  these  scenes  from  the  beginning  of  Act  III.  are  all  on  one  clay  ; 
but  at  the  end  of  this  scene  Holofernes  invites  Nathaniel  and  Dull  to 
dine  with  him  'to  day  at  the  father's  of  a  pupil  of  mine.'  This  does  not 
agree  very  well  with  'this  afternoon'  mentioned  in  Act  III.,  and  one  or 
the  other — the  afternoon,  I  think — must  be  set  down  as  an  oversight. 

"  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  Still  the  same  day.  The  King,  Longaville,  and  Du- 
main  mutually  detect  each  other  of  love,  and  Biron  triumphs  over  all 
three  till  his  own  backslidings  are  exposed  by  the  entry  of  Costard  and 
Jaquenetta  with  his  letter  to  Rosaline.  Finally,  all  four  resolve  to  woo 
their  mistresses  openly,  and  determine  that — 

' in  the  afternoon 

[They]  will  with  some  strange  pastime  solace  them'  (1.  371,  372). 


!70  NOTES. 

"  In  pursuance  of  this  idea  in  the  next  scene,  Act  V.  sc.  i.,  we  find  Ar- 
mado  consulting  Holofernes  and  Nathaniel  —  who  have  now  returned 
from  their  dinner — as  to  some  masque  with  which  '  it  is  the  King's  most 
sweet  pleasure  and  affection  to  congratulate  the  Princess  at  her  pavilion 
in  the  posteriors  of  this  day,  which  the  rude  multitude  call  the  afternoon  ' 
(1.  77-80).  A  masque  of  the  Nine  Worthies  is  determined  on. 

"  In  the  next  scene  the  masque  is  presented  accordingly,  and  with  this 
scene  the  Play  ends. 

"  The  time  of  the  action,  then,  is  two  days : 

"  i.  Acts  I.  and  II. 

"2.  Acts  III.  to  V." 

LIST  OF  CHARACTERS  IN  THE  PLAY,  WITH  THE  SCENES  IN  WHICH 
THKY  APPEAR. — The  numbers  in  parentheses  indicate  the  lines  the 
characters  have  in  each  scene. 

King :  i.  1(117) '.  »•  f(47) ;  iv.  3(76) ;  v.  2(82).     Whole  no.  322. 

Biron:  i.  1(128);  ii.  1(18) ;  iii.  1(51);  iv.  3(237);  v.  2(193).  Whole 
no.  627. 

Longaville  :  i.  1(14) ;  ii.  1(6)  ;  iv.  3(33) ;  v.  2(17).     Whole  no.  70. 

Dumain:  i.  1(8)  ;  ii.  1(2) ;  iv.  3(44)  ;  v.  2(37).     Whole  no.  91. 

Boyet :  ii.  1(67);  iv.  1(64)  ;  v.  2(103).     Whole  no.  234. 

Mercade :  v.  2(4).     Whole  no.  4. 

Armado :  1.2(96);  iii.  1(58);  v.  1(48),  2(53).     Whole  no.  255. 

Nathaniel :  iv.  2(45)  ;  v.  1(13),  2(22).     Whole  no.  80. 

Holofernes:  iv.  2(104);  v.  1(60),  2(36).     Whole  no.  200. 

Dull:  i.  1(9),  2(7);  iv.  2(13)  ;  v.  1(3).     Whole  no.  32. 

Costard:  i.  1(44),  2(13) ;  iii.  1(40) ;  iv.  1(26),  2(3),  3(4)  ;  v.  1(14),  2(58). 
Whole  no.  202. 

Moth:  i.  2(70)  ;  iii.  1(60) ;  v.  1(24),  2(14).     Whole  no.  168. 

Forester:  iv.  1(5).     Whole  no.  5. 

1st  Lord :  ii.  1(2).     Whole  no.  2. 

Princess  :  ii.  1(67);  iv.  1(50) ;  v.  2(172).-   Whole  no.  289. 

Rosaline:  ii.  1(30);  iv.  1(11)  ;  v.  2(137).     Whole  no.  178. 

Maria:  ii.  1(22) ;  iv.  1(4)  ;  v.  2(16).     Whole  no.  42. 

Katherine :  ii.  1(8)  ;  v.  2(38).     Whole  no.  46. 

Jaqtienetta :  i.  2(6);  iv.  2(8),  3(4).     Whole  no.  18. 

In  the  above  enumeration  parts  of  lines  are  counted  as  whole  lines, 
making  the  total  of  the  play  greater  than  it  is.  The  actual  number  of 
lines  in  each  scene  (Globe  edition  numbering)  is  as  follows:  i.  1(318), 
2(192);  ii.  1(258);  iii.  1(207);  iv.  1(151),  2(173),  3(386);  v.  1(162), 
2(942).  Whole  number  in  the  play,  2789. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS    AND    PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 


a  (transposed),  129. 
abate  (=except),  163. 
abhominable,  154. 
Academe,  128. 
accompt,  159. 

addressed  (—directed),  158. 
addressed  (=ready),  136. 
afeard.  163. 
affect  (=love),  134. 
affect  the  letter,  145. 
affection  (^affectation),  153, 

affects  (noun),  131. 

agate,  137. 

Ajax  (play  upon),  163. 

all  hid.  all  hid,  148. 

allowed  (=fool),  162. 

allusion,  145. 

alms-basket,  154. 

an  if,  129. 

angels  vailing  clouds,  160. 

annothanize,  144. 

antique  (accent),  156. 

argument  (=proof),  134. 

Argus.  142. 

art  (=letters),  128. 

as  (=that),  136. 

Ates,  164. 

attaint  (=attainted),  167. 

audaciously,  158. 

ay  (verb),  147. 

baited,  164. 
bandied,  157. 
bankrupt  (spelling),  129. 
bate  (  =  blunt),  128. 
be  time,  152. 
beg  us,  162. 
ben  venuto,  147. 
beshrew,  157. 
bias.  146. 
bird-bolt,  147. 
Biron  (spelling),  128. 
blows  his  nail,  168. 
bold  of,  135. 

bombast  (=cotton ), 139,167. 
bow-hand,  144. 
Boyet  (pronunciation),  «8, 
160. 


brawl  (a  dance),  138. 
break  up  this  capon,  143. 
breathed,  164. 
bring  (^accompany),  167. 
brings  me  out,  159. 
broken  (head),  140. 
buck  of  the  first  head,  145. 
butt-shaft,  135. 

can  '=ganl,  149. 

canary  (verb),  138. 

candle,  150. 

canus,  164. 

capon  (=love-letter),  143. 

career,  162. 

carve,  160. 

catched.  157. 

causes  (in  duelling),  135. 

certes,  147. 

change  (=exchange),  159. 

chapmen,  135. 

charge  their  breath  against 

us,  158. 

charge-house,  155. 
chuck,  156. 
circum  circa,  155. 
cittern-head,  164. 
claw  (=flatter),  146. 
clout  (=target),  144. 
codpiece,  141. 
cog  (=deceive),  159. 
colourable  colours,  147. 
come  home  by  me,  164. 
common  sense,  129. 
commonwealth,  143. 
companions  (^fellows),  153. 
competitors  (=partnersj,  1 36. 
complements,  131,  139. 
complete  (accent),  131. 
complete    (=accomplished), 

H3- 

conceit's  expositor,  136. 
Concolinel,  138. 
consent  (^compact),  162. 
contempts  (=contents),  131. 
continent  of  beauty,  144. 
converse  of  breath.  165. 
convince  (=conquer),  166. 
Cophetua,  144. 


!  corporal  of  the  field,  142. 
'  costard,  140. 

couplement,  163. 
'•  courtesy  (==curtsy),  133. 
i  crabs  (Dapples),  169. 
I  crack  (=boast),  151. 

crest  (beauty's),  151. 

critic  (=carper),  141. 

critic  Timon,  150. 

crosses  (play  upon),  133. 

cuckoo  mocks  married  men 
168. 

cuckoo-buds,  168. 

curious-knotted,  132. 

curst.  143. 

curtsy,  159. 

damosel,  132. 
dance  the  hay,  156. 
dancing  horse,  the,  133. 
day- woman,  134. 
dear  (intensive),  167. 
dearest  (=best),  135. 
debate  (=contest),  131. 
deep  oaths,  128. 
deer  (play  upon),  144. 
depart  (=part),  136. 
Dictynna,  145. 
digression,  134. 
disposed,  137. 
do  the  deed,  142. 
dry-beaten,  159. 
duke  (=king),  131. 

edict  (accent),  128- 
encounters,  158. 
epitheton,  133. 
erewhile,  144. 
estates,  167. 

excrement  (=hair),  156. 
extreme  (accent),  166. 
extreme  parts  of  time,  165 
eyne,  159. 

fadge,  156. 
fair  (noun),  143. 
fair  befall.  136. 
fair  fall,  136. 
fairings,  156. 


172 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


familiar  (=spirit),  134. 

in  blood,  145. 

fast  and  loose,  134,  140. 

in  by  the  week,  157. 

fasting  (=hungry),  149. 

in  will  and  error,  162. 

favour  (play  upon),  157. 

in  years,  162. 

feel  only  looking,  137 

incision,  149. 

festinately,  138. 

incony,  141. 

fierce  (  =  ardent),  167. 

inkle.  141. 

fight  with  a  pole,  164. 

insanire,  154. 

filed  (tongue),  153. 

inward  (=private),  155. 

fire-new,  131. 

first  and  second  cause,  135. 

Jack  hath  not  Jill,  167. 

flap-dragon,  155. 

Jaques  (dissyllable),  135. 

flask,  164. 

Joan  (=peasant),  142. 

flatter  up,  167. 

Juvenal,  133. 

force  not,  161. 

form  (^bench1),  132. 

keel  (=cool),  168. 

fortuna  de  la  guerra,  163. 

kersey,  161. 

friend  (=mistress),  161. 

King  and  the   Beggar,  the, 

.'34- 

gallows  (personal),  156. 

kingly-poor,  159. 

gelded,  136. 

knave  (=boy),  141. 

gentility,  131. 

know  so  much  by  me,  149. 

German  clock,  142. 

get  the  sun  of  them,  152. 

lady-smocks,  168. 

gig  (=top),  150. 

lances  (=lancers),  164. 

gilt  nutmeg,  164. 

last  love,  167. 

glozes,  152. 

laus  Deo,  etc.,  154. 

God  dig-you-den,  143. 

lay  (=stake),  132. 

God's     blessing     on     your 

lemon  stuck  with  cloves,  164. 

beard  !  137. 

libbard,  163. 

good  my  glass,  143. 

liberal  (=too  free),  165. 

gorgeous  east,  151. 

lie  (=lodgel,  131. 

greasily,  144. 

lie  in  my  throat,  147. 

green  (colour  of  lovers),  133. 

light  (play  upon),  134,  137. 

guards  (=facings),  148. 

like  of,  130,  149. 

Guinever,  144. 

lisp,  160. 

little  hole  of  discretion,  165. 

hail  (play  upon),  161. 

liver-vein,  148. 

half-cheek  in  a  brooch,  164. 

letter  (play  upon),  154. 

hang  by  the  wall,  168. 

long  of,  136. 

having  (noun),  131. 

Longaville   (pronunciation), 

hay  (dance),  156. 

128,  155. 

hereby,  134. 

Lord  have  mercy  on  us  !  161. 

Hesperides,  15*. 

Love  (=Venus),  152. 

hests,  157. 

love-feat,  158. 

hight,  131. 

love's  Tyburn,  148. 

hind  (rational),  134. 

hobby-horse  is  forgot,  the, 

made  a  doubt,  158. 

139- 

magnificent    (  =  pompous  ), 

home,  155. 

141. 

honey  (personal),  163. 

mail  (=bag),  140. 

honorificabilitudinitatibus, 

make  an   offence   gracious, 

IS5- 

156. 

horn-book.  155. 

makes  (=does),  150. 

horns  (of  cuckold),  144. 

manage,  162. 

hose  (:=breeches),  148. 

manager,  135. 

hour  (dissyllable),  136. 

Mantuan,  146. 

humorous,  141. 

margent,  137. 

me  (expletive),  129. 

llustrate  (adjective),  144. 

mean  (—tenor),  160. 

mitari,  147. 

measure  (=dance),  159. 

mp  (=youngling),  132,  164. 

mellowing  of  occasion,  146. 

mporteth,  144. 

mere  (^absolute),  131,  133. 

mportunes  (accent),  135. 

mess  (=party  of  four),  150. 

mete  at,  144. 
metheglin,  159. 
misbecomed,  166. 
misprision,  149. 
Monarcho,  144. 
more  sacks  to  the  mill !   1481 
Moth  (pronunciation),  128. 
mouse  (personal),  156. 

ne  intelligis?  154. 

neither  of  either,  162. 

Nemean  lion,  144. 

night  of  dew,  148. 

Nine  Worthies,  the,  156. 

nit,  141. 

no  point,  136,  159. 

novi  hominem  tanquam  te, 

'S3- 

novum,  163. 
numbers,  152. 

o'erparted,  163. 

of  all  hands,  151. 

of  (=byl,  135. 

of  (=during),  129. 

of  force  (=perforce),  131. 

opinion  (=dogmatism),  153 

O's,  157. 

out  of  frame,  142. 

owe  (=own),  133,  135. 

painted  cloth,  163. 
pare  •!   personal),  159. 
paritors.  141. 
parle,  158. 

pass  (=pass  as),  156. 
passado,  135. 
passion  (verb),  132. 
passion's  solemn  tears,  158. 
past  cure  is  past  care,  157. 
patch  (play  upon),  145. 
pathetical.  141. 
pauca  verba,  147. 
pedant  (=pedagogue),  141. 
penny  of  observation,  139. 
penthouse-like,  138. 
peregrinate,  1153. 
perjure  (^perjurer),  148. 
person  (=parson),  146,  150 
phantasime,  144,  153. 
pia  mater,  146. 
picked  (=fastidious),  153. 
pied,  167. 

pierce  (play  upon),  146. 
pin  (of  target),  144. 
pitched  a  toil,  147. 
plackets,  141. 
pi  ease- man,  162. 
point  (play  upon),  136. 
point  you,  137. 
point-device,  153. 
poisons  up,  151. 
pomewater,  145. 
Pompion,  163. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


173 


potent-like,  157. 
pox  of  that  jest !   157. 
praise  sake,  143. 
preambulate,  155. 
present  (^document),  150. 
present  (=represent),  156. 
prick  (of  target),  144. 
Pricket,  145. 
Priscian  scratched,  154. 
proceed  (play  upon),  130. 
profound  (accent),  150. 
pruning  (=adorning),  150. 
pueritia,  155. 
pursent,  163. 
push-pin,  150. 

qualm,  160. 

quick  (=lively),  131,  160. 

quick  (play  upon),  164. 

quillets,  151. 

quis,  155. 

quote  (=construe),  167. 

quoted  (=noted),  148. 

rackers  of  orthography,  153. 
rank  (adjective),  167. 
rational  hind,  134. 
raught,  145. 
reasons,  153. 
reformation  (metre),  167. 
remember  thy  courtesy,  155. 
repasture,  144. 
requests  (=reqnestest),  159. 
resolve  (^answer),  136. 
respects  (=  considerations), 

167. 

retire  (noun),  137. 
rubbing  (in  bowling),  144. 
russet,  161. 

sain  (=said),  140. 

Saint  Cupid,  158. 

Saint  Denis,  158. 

salve  (play  upon  ?),  140. 

sanguis,  in  blood,  145. 

sans,  161. 

satis  quod  sufficit,  153. 

saw  (=maxim),  169. 

self-sovereignty,  143. 

sensible  (=sensitive),  152. 

sensibly  (play  upon),  140. 

sequel,  140. 

set  (=game),  157. 

set  thee  down,  sorrow!   147. 

several  (play  upon),  137. 

several  (=separate),  158. 

shapeless  (=unshapely),  160. 

sheeps  (play  upon),  137. 

ships  (play  upon),  137. 

shrewd,  156. 

shrow,  157. 

simplicity,  157. 

sit  you  out,  130. 

situate  (=situated),  134. 


skipping  (=flighty),  166. 

slop,  148. 

small  (of  leg),  164. 

sneaping,  130. 

so  (=so-so),  132. 

sod  (  =  sodden),  145. 

sola,  sola !  145. 

sold  him  a  bargain.  140. 

solemnized  (accent),  135. 

sometime,  138. 

sonnet  (turn),  135. 

sore  (or  scare),  145. 

sorel.  145. 

sorted  (= associated),  132. 

sowed    cockle     reaped     no 

corn,  153. 

spirits  (monosyllable),  159. 
spleen,  158. 
squire  (=square),  162. 
stabbed  with  laughter,  158. 
stand  (in  hunting),  143. 
state  (^attitude),  150. 
states  (=estates),  161. 
statute-caps,  160. 
stay   not    thy    compliment, 

147. 

strains  (^impulses),  166. 
strucken,  151. 
style  (play  upon),  132,  144. 
sue  (play  upon),  161. 
suggested  (= tempted),  :66. 
suggestions  (^temptations), 

suitor  (pronunciation),  144. 
swoon  (spelling),  161. 
swore  (—sworn),  130. 

tables  (=backgammon),  160. 

taffeta,  159. 

take  you  a  button  lower,  165. 

taken  with  the  manner,  132. 

taking  it  in  snuff,  156. 

talent  (play  upon),  146. 

talent  (  =  talon),  146. 

tapster  (his  reckoning),  133. 

teen,  149. 

tharborough,  131. 

that    (  conjunctional    affix  ), 

149. 

that  (=so  that),  149. 
that's  hereby,  134. 
thin-belly  doublet,  139 
thorough  (^through),  137- 
though,  137. 
thrasonical.  153. 
three-piled,  161. 
Timon,  150. 
tired  horse,  147. 
to  the  death,  158. 
to  the  manner,  161. 
tofore,  140. 

toiling  in  a  pitch,  147. 
tokens  (of  plague),  161. 
tongue  filed,  153. 


too  hard  a  keeping,  129. 

toy  (^trifle),  150. 

trencher-knight,  162. 
,  treys,  159. 
1  triumphing  (accent),  148. 

triumviry,  148. 

Trojan,  164. 

true  man,  150. 

tumbler's  hoop,  142. 

turn  sonnet,  135. 

turtles  (=doves),  150,  168. 

twice-sod,  145. 

unconfirmed,  145. 
undeserving,  161. 
unhappy  (=roguish),  156. 
up  (intensive),  151,  167. 
upon  the  apple  of  her  ey^ 

162. 

usurping  hair,  151. 
uttered,  135. 

vail  (=lower),  160. 
vassal  (play  upon  ?),  132. 
veal,  159. 
venue,  155. 
via !   1 56. 

video,  et  gaudeo,  154. 
videsne  quis  venit?  154. 
voice  (plural?),  152. 

ward  (=guard),  140. 
ware  pencils,  157. 
wassails,  160. 
wax  (play  upon),  156. 
weaker  vessel,  132. 
weeds  (^garments),  167. 
weeping-ripe,  159. 
welkin,  139. 
well  sympathized,  139. 
well-advised,  161. 
well-liking,  159. 
whale's  (dissyllable),  160. 
1  where  (-^whereas),  136. 
whereuntil,  162. 
wide  o'  the  bow-hand,  144 
wighlly,  142. 
wimpled,  141. 
wink  (=shut  the  eyes),  129 
wit  (play  upon),  133. 
with  that  face?  134. 
wit-old,  155. 
woodcock  (=fool),  148. 
woolward,  165. 
world-without-end,  167. 
wort,  159. 
wot,  129. 
wreathed  (=folded).  149. 

ycleped,  132. 
ycliped,  164. 

zany,  162. 
Zenelophon,  144. 


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